O Lord, Thy love, more sweet to me
Than psaltery and psalm,
My joy in glory soon shall be-
My song, my crown, my palm!

Yet sweet e’en now to see thy Face,
And in Thy love to rest,
All sorrow stilled in Thine embrace,
And soothed upon Thy breast!

Lord, weeping there is deeper joy
Than know the sons of men-
Tasting that Love, without alloy,
We can not lose again!

Our grief is sorrow for an hour-
Eternal is Thy love:
Here we but taste its budding flower,
Which fully blooms above!

Our grief, bereft of all that stings
Through Thy sweet sympathy,
But leaves a broken heart that sings,
O lamb of God, to Thee!