Can it then be that hate should e'er be loved?

Yea, Love! 'Twas only on the world's cold heart,

Cold, hard as iron, Thou couldst show Thine art,

There only all Thy strength and fire be proved.

'Tis on our ice Thy living radiance glows,

Makes day of night, for evil gives us good,

Riches for poverty, for hunger food,

And heaven for earth. True Friend of bitterest foes,

Thou Death of death, O Pain to nought but pain,

O Master who Thy work dost ne'er disdain,

Serving Thy servants who can merit nought,

How can I fathom Thy abyss, O Love!

By so much deeper than our hearts can prove,

As God is higher than man's highest thought.