I don’t think I understand
The love of God for fallen man—
Eludes me, still, this myst’ry great
Of mighty hand outstretched in grace.
Yet this I know: his comfort still
Hastens o’er my deadening will—
His blood outpoured, an anchor holds
My feet in firmness ‘gainst the cold.
O Come in mercy, Lord of might,
Hear groaning of the world’s night—
Take back your place upon the throne
And call all people to your own.