We cannot always trace the way
Where Thou, our gracious Lord,
dost move;
But we can always surely say,
That God is love.
When fear its gloomy cloud will fling
O'er earth—our souls, to heaven above,
As to their sanctuary, spring,
For God is love.
When clouds hang o'er our darkened path,
We'll check our dread, each doubt reprove;
For here each saint sweet comfort hath,
That God is love.
Yes, Thou art love—a truth like this
Can every gloomy thought remove,
And turn our tears and woes to bliss;
Our God is love.