When through the woods and forest glades I wonder,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur,
And hear the brook, and feel the gentle breeze;
3
And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in.
That on the cross my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died, to take away my sin.
4
When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home - what joy shall fill my heart!
Then shall I bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim, my God, how great Thou art!
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