O precious bride, Christ’s church in glory dressed,
Do we love well, as He has loved us still,
Or weave we harm where justice should be pressed,
And mar the grace His tender heart would fill?
I turn the gaze within, a harder task,
Do I reflect His boundless, gentle care,
Or falter short beneath the truth I ask,
To treat each soul with love beyond compare?
His cross demands we rise above the fray,
Abounding grace to pour on all we meet,
Not harm, but hope, in every word we say,
A bride reborn, His mercy’s hands and feet.
So may we love, both church and I, as one,
Till Christ’s own light through us forever run.