THE LOVE THAT PASSETH KNOWLEDGE
Not what I am, O Lord, but what thou art,
That, that alone, can be my soul's true rest;
Thy love, not mine, bids fear and doubt depart,
And stills the tempest of my tossing breast.
It is thy perfect love that casts out fear;
I know the voice that speaks the "It is I."
And in these well-known words of heavenly cheer
I hear the joy that bids each sorrow fly.
Thy name is Love! I hear it from the Cross;