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, Dressed 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. Even on earth, as through a glass Darkly, let Thy glory pass, Make forgiveness feel so sweet, Make Thy Spirit’s help so meet, Even on earth, Lord, make me know Something of how much I owe. Chosen not for...