O mystery of love divine
That thought and thanks o'erpow'rs!
Lord Jesus, was our portion thine,
And is thy portion ours?
Didst thou fulfil each righteous deed,
God's perfect will express,
That we th'unfaithful ones might plead
Thy perfect faithfulness?
For thee the Father's hidden face?
For thee the bitter cry?
For us the Father's endless grace,
The song of victory?
Our load of sin and misery
Didst thou, the Sinless, bear?
Thy spotless robe of purity
Do we the sinners wear?
Thou, who our very place didst take,
Dwell in our very heart:
Thou, who thy portion ours dost make,
Thyself, thyself impart.