It passeth knowledge, that dear love of Thine,
My Saviour, Jesus, yet this soul of mine
Would of Thy love, in all its breadth and length,
Its height and depth, its everlasting strength,
Know more and more.
It passeth telling, that dear love of Thine,
My Saviour, Jesus, yet these lips of mine
Would fain proclaim to sinners, far and near,
A lobe which can remove all guilty fear,
And love beget.
It passeth praises, that dear love of Thine,
My Saviour, Jesus, yet this heart of mine
Would sing that love, so full, so rich, so free,
Which brings a rebel sinner, such as me,
Nigh unto God.
But thou I cannot sing, or tell, or know
The fulness of Thy love while here below,
My empty vessel I may freely bring:
O Thou who art of love the living spring,
My vessel fill.
O fill me, Jesus, Saviour, with Thy love!
Lead, lead me to the living fount above;
Thither may I, in simple faith, draw nigh,
And never to another fountain fly,
But unto Thee.
And when my Jesus face to face I see,
When at His lofty throne I bow the knee,
Then of His love, in all its breadth and length,
Its height and depth, its everlasting strength,
My soul shall sing!
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