Thou Lord, art love, and ev­ery­where
Thy name is brightly shown;
Beneath, on earth—Thy footstool fair;
Above, in heaven—Thy throne.

Thy Word is love; in lines of gold
There mercy prints its trace:
In nature we Thy steps behold,
The Gos­pel shows Thy face.

Thy ways are love; though they transcend
Our feeble range of sight,
They wind through darkness to their end
In ev­er­last­ing light.

Thy thoughts are love, and Je­sus is
The loving voice they find;
His love lights up the vast abyss
Of the eter­nal mind.

Thy chastisements are love; more deep
They stamp the seal divine;
And by a sweet compulsion keep
Our spirits nearer Thine.

Thy heaven is the abode of love!
O blessèd Lord, that we
May there, when time’s dim shades remove,
Be gathered home to Thee!

Then with Thy resting saints to fall
Adoring round Thy throne,
When all shall love Thee, Lord, and all
Shall in Thy love be one.