Thou Hidden Love of God

Thou hidden love of God, whose hight,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 beAt rest till it find rest in thee.

Thy secret voice invites me stillThe sweetness of thy yoke to prove;And fain I would; but though my willSeems 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 broughtMy mind to seek her peace in thee;Yet, while I seek, but find thee not,No peace my wandering soul shall see.O, when shall all my wanderings end,And all my steps to thee-ward tend?

Is there a thing beneath the sunThat 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 hath found repose in thee.