Could we with ink the ocean fill

And were the skies of parchment made

Were every tree on earth a quill

And every man a scribe by trade

To write the love of God above

Would drain the ocean dry

Nor could the scroll contain the whole

Though stretched from sky to sky

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O love of God how rich and pure

How measureless and strong

It shall forevermore endure

The saints and angels song

—Frederick M. Lehman—