Behold what wondrous grace,
The Father hath bestow’d.
On sinners of a mortal race,
To call them sons of God.

Nor doth it yet appear,
How great we must be made;
But when we see our Savior here,
We shall be like our Head.

A hope so much devine,
My trials well endure,
May purify our souls from sin,
As Christ the Lord is pure.

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