Eliza Scudder (1821–1896)

THOU Grace Divine, encircling all,

A soundless, shoreless sea

Wherein at last our souls must fall!—

O Love of God most free!

When over dizzy heights we go,

One soft hand blinds our eyes,

The other leads us, safe and slow,—

O Love of God most wise!

And though we turn us from Thy face,

And wander wide and long,

Thou hold’st us still in Thine embrace,—

O Love of God most strong!

The saddened heart, the restless soul,

The toil-worn frame and mind,

Alike confess Thy sweet control,—

O Love of God most kind!

But not alone Thy care we claim,

Our wayward steps to win:

We know Thee by a dearer name,—

O Love of God within!

And filled and quickened by Thy breath,

Our souls are strong and free

To rise o’er sin and fear and death,

O Love of God, to Thee!