Than tongue or pen could 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 (*)

(*) O love of God, how rich and pure How measureless and strong

It shall forevermore endure 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 (*)