Words by Fred­er­ick M. Leh­man; he wrote this song in 1917 in Pas­a­de­na, Cal­i­fornia, and it was pub­lished
in Songs That Are Dif­fer­ent, Vol­ume 2, 1919. The lyr­ics are based on the Jew­ish poem Had­da­mut, writ­ten 
in Ara­ma­ic in 1050 by Meir Ben Isaac Ne­hor­ai, a can­tor in Worms, Ger­ma­ny; they have been trans­lat­ed 
in­to at least 18 languages. Music is also by Fred­er­ick Leh­man ar­ranged by his daugh­ter, Clau­dia L. Mays.

D                                             A            D
The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell;
                                             A7            D
It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell;
           G                     D                  A   A7 D
The guilty pair, bowed down with care, God gave His Son to win;
           G               D                   A7       D
His erring child He recon- ciled, and pardoned from his sin.
D         G                 D                  A        D
O love of God, how rich and pure! How measure- less and strong!
              G            D                    A7      D
It shall for- evermore en- dure the saints’ and angels’ song.
D                                               A                    D
When years of time shall pass away, and earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
                                                 A7                  D              
When men, who here, refuse to pray, on rocks and hills and mountains call,
              G                 D                    A    A7  D
God’s love so sure, shall still endure, all measure- less and strong;
          G               D                    A7      D
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race the saints’ and angels’ song.
D         G                 D                  A        D
O love of God, how rich and pure! How measure- less and strong!
              G            D                    A7      D
It shall for- evermore en- dure the saints’ and angels’ song.
D                                              A                  D
Could we with ink the ocean fill, and were the skies of parchment made,
                                             A7              D
Were every stalk on earth a quill, and every man a scribe by trade,
             G           D                      A  A7   D
To write the love of God above, would drain the o- cean dry.
              G                  D                            A7     D
Nor could the scroll contain the whole, though stretched from sky to sky.
D         G                 D                  A        D
O love of God, how rich and pure! How measure- less and strong!
              G            D                    A7      D
It shall for- evermore en- dure the saints’ and angels’ song.