O Good beyond compare!

Who would not worship Thee?

What heart that would not long to bear

Some grief or smart for Thee?

Who would not that his soul and mind

Were wholly unto Thee inclined?

Thou art that Radiance keen,

For angel-eyes too pure,

Which mortal man hath never seen;

Yet in this land obscure,

More common than the light of day

Thou shinest round our path alway.

Thou art the Majesty

Whom nature bows before,

From whom not hell itself can flee,

Whom earth and heaven adore;

And yet Thou bendest down to show

How Thou canst care for one so low!

Reason's deep primal Source,

Pure Wisdom art Thou still,

Whose sway with mild resistless force

Works everywhere its will;

And yet so great Thy grace to me

That Thou wouldst have me reign with Thee.

Thou art the Good Supreme,

No good canst Thou receive,

The joy whence only joy can stream,

To Thee we nought can give;

And yet Thou askest for my heart,

That in Thy joy it may have part.

All Beauty is Thine own,

Nought fairer canst Thou find,

'Tis Thy own loveliness alone

Can please Thy Perfect Mind;

And yet Thy love hath chosen me

The shadow, to be sought by Thee.

Thy Throne is fixed on high,

The depths before it quake,

Vainly would earth's poor kingdoms try

Th' eternal rule to shake;

And yet a sinning child to save

Thou stoopest to the cross and grave.

O Good beyond compare!

Who would not worship Thee?

What heart so cold it would not bear

Some pain and smart for Thee?

Oh would that all my soul and mind

Longed but for this, my God to find!