O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High

O love, how deep, how broad, how high,
How passing thought and fantasy,
That God, the Son of God, should take
Our mortal form for mortals' sake!

He sent no angel to our race
Of higher or of lower place,
But wore the robe of human frame
And He Himself, to this world came.

Nor willed He only to appear;
His pleasure was to tarry here;
And God and Man with man would be
The space of thirty years and three.

For us baptized, for us He bore
His holy fast and hungered sore,
For us temptations sharp He knew;
For us the tempter overthrew.

For us He prayed; for us He taught;
For us His daily works He wrought;
By words and signs and actions thus
Still seeking not Himself, but us.

For us to wicked men betrayed,
Scourged, mocked, in crown of thorns arrayed,
For us He bore the cross's death,
For us at length gave up His breath.

For us He rose from death again;
For us He went on high to reign;
For us He sent His Spirit here,
To guide, to strengthen, and to cheer.

All honor, laud, and glory be,
O Jesus, virgin-born to Thee!
All glory, as is ever meet
To Father and to Paraclete.