Saturday, 11 April 2009

• My Song is Love Unknown

  My song is love unknown,
  My Savior’s love to me;
  Love to the loveless shown,
  That they might lovely be.
  O who am I,
  That for my sake
  My Lord should take
  Frail flesh, and die?

  He came from His blest throne
  Salvation to bestow;
  But men made strange, and none
  The longed-for Christ would know:
  But oh, my Friend,
  My Friend indeed,
  Who at my need
  His life did spend.

  Sometimes they strew His way,
  And His sweet praises sing;
  Resounding all the day
  Hosannas to their King:
  Then “Crucify!”
  Is all their breath,
  And for His death
  They thirst and cry.

  They rise and needs will have
  My dear Lord made away;
  A murderer they save,
  The Prince of life they slay.
  Yet cheerful He
  To suffering goes,
  That He His foes
  From thence might free.

  In life, no house, no home
  My Lord on earth might have;
  In death, no friendly tomb,
  But what a stranger gave.
  What may I say?
  Heav’n was His home;
  But mine the tomb
  Wherein He lay.

  Here might I stay and sing,
  No story so divine;
  Never was love, dear King,
  Never was grief like Thine.
  This is my Friend,
  In whose sweet praise
  I all my days
  Could gladly spend.

  Samuel Crossman, 1664

  • 12:28 AM
  • 61 Views
  • 12 eProps
  • 7 Comments