The Divine Love

At the Lord's right hand there are pleasures,

There are treasures for evermore—

In the depths fo Thy glory are treasures,

A measureless, priceless store.

O God, we have shared Thy pleasures,

Thy treasures of countless price,

Those joys that no thought can measure,

For all are Christ.

That cup of Thy love and gladness

Has cheered us along the road,

Through ages of sin and of sadness

Partaking the joys of God—

Through Thy Spirit sent down from heaven

Thy Christ to our hearts is dear;

The Spirit who tells of His sweetness

Is with us here.

Thus false though our hearts and faithless,

We love Him with love divine—

With a love that is true and scatheless,

For it is not ours, but Thine.

Thy love from our hearts outflowing,

Its source in the Heavens above,

That love of Thine own bestowing

Eternal love.

O God, with Thy love we love Him,

And thus are our praises sweet,

A fragrance that fills the heavens,

As we fall before His feet.

Our God, of Thine own we give Thee,

And Thine is the golden store—

What are we that we thus can offer,

Can thus adore!

Our heart and our flesh may fail us,

And the mists of sin may rise;

They may hide the land of the glory

From our faithless wandering eyes;

But the Spirit within us fails not

For ever to tell of Him;

And His Face is seen in its beauty

When all is dim.

In the dungeons and in the deserts

Have Thy saints by the world despised,

With joy untold and unmeasured,

Looked on the Face of Christ.

In the torture or in the fire,

'Midst the scorn and the hate of men,

They have seen but the light of His presence

Around them then.

O Lord, we adore and we bless Thee,

That we in Thy hands of might

Are the chords wereupon Thou makest

The music of Thy delight;

Whereon Thou wilt sound for ever

In wondrous and glorious tone,

The name of Thy Son beloved

His name alone.

What recks it that cold and worthless

And wayworn my heart may be,

If the love that came down from heaven

Flows back to the Lord from me?

A glorious tide of worship,

Unsilenced by sin and by death,

Sweet melody made in the cornet,

By God's own breath.