Ex Ore Innocentium

It is a thing most wonderful,

Almost too wonderful to be.

That God's own Son should come from Heaven,

And die to save a child like me.

And yet I know that it is true:

He chose a poor and humble lot,

And wept, and toiled, and mourned, and died,

For love of those who loved him not.

I sometimes think about the Cross,

And shut my eyes, and try to see

The cruel nails and crown of thorns,

And Jesus, crucified for me.

But even could I see him die,

I should but see a little part

Of that great love, which, like a fire,

Is always burning in his heart.

And yet I want to love thee, Lord;

Oh light the flame within my heart,

And I will love thee more and more,

Until I see thee as thou art.

Composer:

John Ireland (1879-1962)

Author of Text:

William Walsham How (1823-1897)