“I love the Lord,” is still the strain This heart delights to sing: But I reply—your thoughts are vain, Perhaps 'tis no such thing. | Before the power of love divine Creation fades away; Till only God is seen to shine In all that we survey. | In gulfs of awful night we find The God of our desires; 'Tis there he stamps the yielding mind, And doubles all its fires. | Flames of encircling love invest, And pierce it sweetly through; 'Tis filled with sacred joy, yet pressed With sacred sorrow too. | Ah love! my heart is in the right— Amidst a thousand woes, To thee, its ever new delight, And all its peace it owes. | Fresh causes of distress occur Where'er I look or move; The comforts I to all prefer Are solitude and love. | Nor exile I nor prison fear; Love makes my courage great; I find a Saviour every where, His grace in every state. | Nor castle walls, nor dungeons deep, Exclude his quickening beams; There I can sit, and sing, and weep, And dwell on heavenly themes. | There sorrow, for his sake, is found A joy beyond compare; There no presumptuous thoughts abound, No pride can enter there. | A Saviour doubles all my joys, And sweetens all my pains, His strength in my defence employs, Consoles me and sustains. | I fear no ill, resent no wrong; Nor feel a passion move, When malice whets her slanderous tongue; Such patience is in love. | |