O Lord, Thy loving-kindness,
The warmth of Thine embrace,
My ransomed soul's enjoying,
Delighting in Thy grace.

But far more satisfaction,
And infinite delight,
My ransomed soul affords Thee,
Made glorious in Thy sight.

Thy joy exceeds all measure,
O'er sinful souls made nigh;
Fulfilling Thy desire
To have them, Lord, on high.

Thy Church-O blest conception!
Thy Body and Thy bride!-
To make her Thy possession,
Blest Saviour, Thou hast died.

Thou, Lord, to everlasting :
How satisfied wilt be,
To harvest for Thy pleasure
The fruit of Calvary!

E. J. Checkley