Strong Son of God, im­mor­tal love,
Whom we, that have not seen Thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, em­brace,
Believing where we can­not prove.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust;
Thou mad­est man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die:
And Thou hast made him: Thou art just.

Thou seem­est hu­man and di­vine,
The high­est, ho­li­est man­hood, Thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Ours wills are ours, to make them Thine.

Our lit­tle sys­tems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be;
They are but brok­en lights of Thee,
And Thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we can­not know;
For know­ledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from Thee,
A beam in dark­ness: let it grow.

Let know­ledge grow from more to more,
But more of re­ver­ence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, ac­cord­ing well,
May make one mu­sic as be­fore.

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock Thee when we do not fear;
But help Thy fool­ish ones to bear—
Help Thy vain worlds to bear Thy light.