It passeth knowledge, that dear love of Thine,
My Jesus! Saviour! yet this soul of mine
Would of Thy love, in all its breadth and length,
Its height and depth, and everlasting strength,
Know more and more.

It passeth telling, that dear love of Thine,
My Jesus! Saviour! yet these lips of mine
Would fain proclaim to sinners far and near
A love which can remove all guilty fear,
And love beget.

It passeth praises, that dear love of Thine,
My Jesus! Saviour! yet this heart of mine
Would sing a love so rich - so full - so free,
Which brought a rebel sinner, such as me,
Nigh unto God.

But though I cannot tell or sing or know
The fullness of Thy love while here below,
My empty vessel I may freely bring - 
O Thou who art of love the living spring,
My vessel fill.

I am an empty vessel - scarce one thought
Or look of love to Thee I've ever brought;
Yet I may come, and come again to Thee
With this, the needy children's only plea - 
"Thou lovest me!"

Oh, fill me, Jesus, Saviour, with Thy love;
Lead, lead me to the living fount above!
Thither may I in simple faith draw nigh
And never to another fountain fly,
But unto Thee.

And Jesus, when Thee face to face I see,
When on Thy lofty throne I sit with Thee;
Then of Thy love in all its breadth and length,
Its height and depth, its everlasting strength,
My soul shall sing.