How shall I meet my Saviour?

How shall I welcome Thee?

What manner of behaviour

Is now required of me?

Let thine illumination

Guide heart and hand aright,

That this my preparation

Be pleasing in thy sight.

While with her sweetest flowers

Thy Zion strews the way,

I’ll raise with all my powers

To Thee a grateful lay:

To Thee, the King of Glory,

I’ll raise a song divine;

And make thy love’s bright story

In graceful numbers shine.

I lay in fetters groaning,

Thou cam’st to set me free;

My shame I was bemoaning,

With grace thou clothedst me;

Thou raisedst me to glory,

Endowed me with thy bliss,

Which is not transitory,

As worldly pleasure is.

This caused thy incarnation,

This brought thee down to me:

Thy thirst for my salvation

Contrived my liberty!

May I still enjoy this feeling,

In all need to Jesus go!

Prove his wounds each day more healing,

And himself more fully know.