It's Hard To Type Through The Tears

And when I think that God his son not sparing,

Sent him to die - I scarce can take it in,

That on the cross my burden gladly bearing,

He bled and died to take away my sin:

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, how great Thou art!