Can ye count me the leaves on the forest tree?
Or the sands on the sea-washed shore?
Or the flowers bedecking the fragrant lea?
Or the grains of the harvest store?
If ye can, I can tell you His love to me
Who died for my sins on Calvary’s tree.
Can ye number the locks of glossy hair
On the blooming, youthful head?
Can ye count me each particular star
Which shines when the day is sped?
If ye can I can tell you His love to me
Who died for my sins on Calvary’s tree.
Can ye number the blades of grass which grow
In the meadows all around?
Or the sparkling, glittering drops of dew
At the sun’s uprising found?
If ye can, I can tell you His love to me
Who died for my sins on Calvary’s tree.
Can ye count the rays of light which flow
From the fount of light above?
Or the drops which, heaving to and fro,
O’er the ocean’s caverns move?
If ye can, I can tell you His love to me
Who died for my sins on Calvary’s tree.
Ye cannot! and Oh, I cannot tell
The depth of the love divine
Which rescued my soul from death and hell,
And tells me that heaven is mine!
Deep, vast, unknown, is His love to me
Who died for my sins on Calvary’s tree.