It seems to me, that to You, Oh Lord,
Purity is of utmost value.
A thing greatly desired to be secured
by that most precious to You.
And so You sent Your Son to die
“to make a wretch [Your] treasure.”
I’m so thankful, Lord, for this love,
shown by the greatest measure.

Such love has purchased for me, a worm,
a garment purest white.
And thus, may passion in my heart burn,
forever, shining bright—
That others may see Your glory ablaze,
and falling at Your feet,
may find that same amazing grace
that longs to set them free.

Oh, Lord, that they may see Your Son
clothed in a crimson robe—
who clothed Himself in such a one
to clothe them with His own,
a robe of righteousness so pure
it cannot be destroyed,
but for its wearers does secure
a great, eternal joy.

This joy can be found in none other
than the One who paid the price
to make rebellious enemies
instead children, and friends, for life—
a life they go on living
eternally in His presence,
singing praises to His name,
no sound to Him more pleasant.

May many more, to You, oh Lord,
sing such hymns of love
in gratitude, with one accord
to Your throne above.
For You alone are worthy, God
of all the glory and the praise
that all our hearts could possibly give
to You, for all our days.

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