Henri F. Hemy, 1864;
Arr. James G. Walton, 1870
Joseph Barnby, 1871
Gerhard Tersteegen, 1729;
Tr. John Wesley, 1738;
Thou hidden love of God, whose height,
Whose depth unfathomed no man knows:
I see from far thy beauteous light,
Inly I sigh for thy repose:
My heart is pained, nor can it be
At rest, till it find rest in thee.
Is there a thing beneath the sun
That strives with thee my heart to share?
Ah! tear it thence, and reign alone,
The Lord of every motion there.
Then shall my heart from earth be free,
When it hath found repose in thee.
O hide this self from me, that I
No more, but Christ in me, may live!
My base affections crucify,
Nor let one favourite sin survive;
In all things nothing may I see,
Nothing desire, or seek, but thee.
Each moment draw from earth away
My heart, that lowly waits thy call!
Speak to my inmost soul, and say
I am thy love, thy God, thy all!
To feel thy power, to hear thy voice,
To taste thy love, be all my choice!