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HOU 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
Thy secret voice invites me still
The sweetness of thy yoke to prove, And fain I would; but though my will Seem fixed, yet wide my passions rove, Yet hindrances strew all the way:
I aim at thee, yet from thee stray.
'Tis mercy all that thou hast brought
My mind to seek her peace in thee;
No peace my wandering soul shall see.
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 has found repose in thee.
GERHARD Tersteegen, 1697-1769.
E praise thee with the earliest morning ray;
Thy Christendom is singing night and day,
Thy name is great, thy kingdom in us dwell,
For thine the glory, thine the rule, the power!
JOHANN FRANCK, 1618-1677.
Tr. CATHERINE WINKWORTH, 1829-1878.