“Herein is love.” 1 John 4. 8-16; John 15. 13
Zion’s Trumpet, 1838 8.7.
What is love? My soul would answer,
Nought deserves the endearing name
But the God of love, the Saviour,
Whose dear heart’s a constant flame.
View him prostrate in the garden,
Wet his locks with dews of night,
Grappling with the powers of darkness,
Sweating blood, amazing sight!
Hear his groans, till he, expiring,
Cries triumphant, “It is done;”
Bearing all the wrathful anger
Which to us was due alone.
What is love? My soul would echo
With the saints in heaven above,
Who, through Jesus, gone to glory,
Sing in concert, “This is love!”