859
L. M. 6 lines.
Love—which passeth knowledge.
Eph. 3:19.
Thou hidden love of God, whose hight,
Whose depth, unfathomed, no man knows,
I see from far thy beauteous light:
Inly I sigh for thy repose;
My heart is pained; nor can it be
At rest till it find rest in thee.
2 Thy secret voice invites me still
The sweetness of thy yoke to prove;
And fain I would; but though my will
Seems fixed, yet wide my passions rove;
Yet hindrances strew all the way;
I aim at thee, yet from thee stray.
3 ’Tis mercy all, that thou hast brought
My mind to seek her peace in thee;
Yet, while I seek, but find thee not,
No peace my wandering soul shall see.
O, when shall all my wanderings end,
And all my steps to thee-ward tend?
4 Is there a thing beneath the sun
That strives with thee my heart to share?
Ah, tear it thence, and reign alone,
The Lord of every motion there:
Then shall my heart from earth be free,
When it hath found repose in thee.
G. Terstergan.