Cheer up, desponding soul;
Thy longing pleased I see:
'Tis part of that great whole
Wherewith I longed for thee.
Wherewith I longed for thee,
And left my Father's throne,
From death to set thee free,
To claim thee for my own.
To claim thee for my own,
I suffered on the cross:
O! were my love but known,
No soul could fear its loss.
No soul could fear its loss,
But, filled with love divine,
Would die on its own cross,
And rise for ever mine.
Surely there is poetry as well as truth in this. But, certainly in
general, his thought is far in excess of his poetry.