O love di­vine, how sweet thou art!
When shall I find my will­ing heart
All tak­en up by thee?
I thirst, I faint, I die to prove
The great­ness of re­deem­ing love,
The love of Christ to me.

Stronger His love than death or hell;
Its reaches are un­search­able;
The first born sons of light
Desire in vain its depths to see;
They can­not reach the mys­te­ry
The length, and breadth, and height.

God on­ly knows the love of God;
O that it now were shed abroad
In this poor sto­ny heart!
For love I sigh, for love I pine;
This on­ly por­tion, Lord, be mine,
Be mine this bet­ter part.

O that I could for­ev­er sit
With Ma­ry at the Mas­ter’s feet;
Be this my hap­py choice;
My on­ly care, de­light, and bliss,
My joy, my hea­ven on earth, be this
To hear the Bride­groom’s voice.

O that, with hum­bled Pe­ter, I
Could weep, be­lieve, and thrice re­ply,
My faith­ful­ness to prove.
Thou know’st, for all to Thee is known,
Thou know’st, O Lord, and Thou alone,
Thou know’st that Thee I love.

O that I could, with fa­vored John,
Recline my weary head up­on
The dear Re­deem­er’s breast!
From care, and sin, and sor­row free,
Give me, O Lord, to find in Thee
My ev­er­last­ing rest.

Thy on­ly love do I re­quire,
Nothing on earth be­neath de­sire,
Nothing in Hea­ven above;
Let earth, and Hea­ven, and all things go,
Give me Thy on­ly love to know,
Give me on­ly Thy love.