Sunday Hymn: The Love of God

The love of God is great­er far
Than tongue or pen can ev­er tell;
It goes be­yond the high­est star,
And reach­es to the low­est hell;
The guil­ty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His err­ing child He re­con­ciled,
And par­doned from his sin.

Refrain

O love of God, how rich and pure!
How mea­sure­less and strong!
It shall for­ev­er­more en­dure
The saints’ and an­gels’ song.

When years of time shall pass away,
And earth­ly thrones and king­doms fall,
When men, who here re­fuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mount­ains call,
God’s love so sure, shall still en­dure,
All mea­sure­less and strong;
Redeeming grace to Ad­am’s race—
The saints’ and an­gels’ song.

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parch­ment made,
Were ev­ery stalk on earth a quill,
And ev­ery man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll con­tain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

—Fred­er­ick M. Leh­man