When This Passing World Is Done

When this passing world is done,
When has sunk yon glaring sun,
When we stand with Christ in glory,
Looking o'er life's finished story,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know, --
Not till then, --how much I owe.


When I hear the wicked call
On the rocks and hills to fall,
When I see them start and shrink,
On the fiery deluge brink,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know, --
Not till then, --how much I owe.


When I stand before the throne,
Dress'd in beauty not my own,
When I see Thee as Thou art,
Love Thee with unsinning heart,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know,--
Not till then, --how much I owe.


When the praise of heav'n I hear,
Loud as thunders to the ear,
Loud as many waters' noise,
Sweet as harp's melodious voice,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know,--
Not till then, --how much I owe.


Chosen not for good in me,
Waken'd up from wrath to flee,
Hidden in the Saviour's side,
By the Spirit sanctified,
Teach me, Lord, on earth to show,
By my love how much I owe.


Oft I walk beneath the cloud,
Dark as midnight's gloomy shroud;
But when fear is at the height,
Jesus comes, and all is light.
Blessed Jesus, bid me show
Doubting saints how much I owe.

--Robert Murray M'Cheyne