O love divine, to mortal thought transcendent,
Cleanse thou the taint of earthly love and hate,
Till, dead to self, our hearts shall be resplendent,
In that Love-light of God inviolate.
The choicest fruits of bliss the worldling treasures,
Are empty husks to hearts that starve for Love;
"Like tired children" sated with their pleasures,
We turn from sense to find our joy above.
For sin-bound slaves the fires of passion quelling,
Consuming pain, replenishing our dearth,
Thy perfect presence every fear dispelling,—
Eternal Love! Thy touch makes heaven of earth.
Truths upon which depend our main concern,
That' tis our shame and misery not to learn,
Shine by the side of every path we tread,
With such a lustre, he that runs may read.
That thou art happy, owe to God;
That thou continuest such, owe to thyself,
That is, to thy obedience; therein stand.
