Nought, nought, dear Lord, has power to move
                                        
                                        Thee from Thy rightful place,
                                        
                                        Save that most strange and blessed love
                                        
                                        Wherewith Thou dost embrace
                                        
                                        This weary world and all her woe,
                                        
                                        Her load of grief and ill
                                        
                                        And sorrow, more than man can know—
                                        
                                        Thy love is deeper still.