O Christ He is a fountain, a deep sweet well of love
The streams that I have tasted, more deep I’ll drink above
And fuller than the ocean, His mercy does expand
Glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved’s mine
He brings this weary sinner into His house of wine
I stand upon His merit, I know no other stand
Glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
A bride eyes not her garment but her dear bridegroom’s face
I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace
Not at the crown He gives me but on His pierced hand!
Glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land
Oh, glory, glory, glory, in Immanuel’s land!