THE GLORIOUS GOSPEL

This I Know

I do not know the depths of love
    It took to die on Calvary;
I do not know the shame and grief
    He suffered there to set me free.
Nor can I tell how bitter was
    His cup in dark Gethsemane,
The pain He bore - heartbroken, poor;
    But this I know: He died for me!

I know not why that for my sins
    His precious blood so freely flows,
Nor fathom shy the Lord of All
    Did not such cruel death oppose.
I cannot understand the power
    Which triumphed over death and foes.
They sealed His tomb ‘midst dark’ning gloom;
    But this I know: for me He rose!

I do not know why oftentimes
    The skies are dark and overcast;
Nor why, in grave temptations, all
    My problems seem so hard, so vast.
I cannot tell what things may come -
    Sore heartaches, all my hopes to blast
The shades of night obscure the light;
    But this I know: He’ll hold me fast.

—G. V. W.

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