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P. M.


God is Love.

I cannot always trace the way

Where Thou, almighty One, dost move,

But I can always, always say

That God is love.

When fear her chilling mantle throws

O’er earth, my soul to heaven above,

As to her native home, upsprings,

For God is love.

When mystery clouds my darkened path,

I’ll check my dread, my doubts reprove;

In this my soul sweet comfort hath,

That God is love.

Yes, God is love;—a thought like this

Can every gloomy thought remove,

And turn all tears, all woes, to bliss,

For God is love.

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