1 I do not know, I cannot understand,
Why my Redeemer has such love for me,—
Why He forsook His home in glory-land,
And came to earth my guilty soul to free.

But some sweet morn, in yonder blissful place,
When I with joy shall clasp my Savior’s hand,
And rest my eyes upon His matchless face,
My happy soul will clearly understand.

2 I know not why He should His all resign,
And suffer death to hide my wretched past;
But this I know His priceless love is mine,
And His dear voice will tell me all at last.

Yes, some sweet morn, in yonder blissful place,
When I with joy shall clasp my Savior’s hand,
And rest my eyes upon His matchless face,
My happy soul will clearly understand.

3 Then I will wait, and prize the precious gift,
Until I hear my blessed Lord’s command;
For well I know that He Himself will lift
The veil that hides, and I shall understand.

Yes, some sweet morn, in yonder blissful place,
When I with joy shall clasp my Savior’s hand,
And rest my eyes upon His matchless face,
My happy soul will clearly understand.