O Could I Speak the Matchless Worth

O could I speak the matchless worth, O could I sound the glories forth, which in my savior shine! I'd soar, and touch the heavenly strings, and vie with Gabriel while he sings in notes almost divine.

I'd sing the precious blood He spilt, my ransom for the dreadful guilt, of sin and wrath divine! I'd sing His glorious righteousness, in which all perfect heavenly dress my soul shall ever shine.

I'd sing the characters He bears, and all the forms of love He wears, exalted on His throne: in loftiest songs of sweetest praise, I would to everlasting days make all His glories known.