O unprovoked love that stills
All murmurings of unbelief!
O sweet beneficence that wills
To turn to rapture all my grief!
Oh, just to lie within Thine arms
In the sweet happiness of peace
Secure from Nature’s dread alarms –
Here rest begins and terrors cease.
To leave the “Whys?” and “Wherefores” there
With Him Who all perfection is;
To place the “Thees” and “Therefores” where
Naught but a cold abstraction is.
Perfection must act perfectly –
Almighty love makes no mistakes;
God is the end of mystery –
He, out of chaos, order makes.
Leave in His hands the threads of life
To weave into a perfect whole;
He ends all speculative strife
When fully worshipped in the soul.