Mine arms embrace my God, yet I
Had never arms to reach so high;
And though my good to him ascends,
My goodness to him ne'er extends.

I take hold of his cov'nant free.
But find it must take hold of me.
I'm bound to keep it, yet 'tis bail
And bound to keep me without fail.

The bond on my part cannot last,
Yet on both sides stands firm and fast.
I break my bands at every shock,
Yet never is the bargain broke.

Daily, alas! I disobey,
Yet yield obedience ev'ry day.
I'm an imperfect perfect man,
That can do all, yet nothing can.

I'm from beneath, and from above,
A child of wrath, a child of love.
A stranger e'en where all may know;
A pilgrim, yet I no where go,

I trade abroad, yet stay at home.
My tabernacle is my tomb.
I can be prison'd, yet abroad;
Bound hand and foot, yet walk with God.

My Father lives, my father's gone,
My vital head both lost and won.
My parents cruel are and kind,
Of one, and of a diff'rent mind.

My father, poison'd me to death,
My mother's hand will stop my breath,
Her womb, that once my substance gave;
Will very quickly be my grave.

My sisters all my flesh will eat,
My brethren tread me under feet,
My nearest friends are most unkind,
My greatest foe's my greatest friend.

He could from feud to friendship pass,
Yet never change from what he was,
He is my Father, he alone,
Who is my Father's only Son.

I am his mother's son, yet more,
A son his mother never bore,
But born of him, and yet aver
His Fathers sons my mother's were.

I am divorc'd, yet marry'd still,
With full consent against my will.
My husband present is, yet gone,
We differ much, yet still are one.

He is the first, the last, the all,
Yet number'd up with insects small.
The first of all things, yet alone,
The second of the great Three-one.

A creature never could he be,
Yet is a creature strange I see,
And own this uncreated one,
The son of man, yet no man's son.

He's omnipresent all may know;
Yet never could be wholly so.
His manhood is not here and there,
Yet he is God-man ev'ry where.

He comes and goes, none can him trace;
Yet never could he change his place.
But though he's good, and ev'ry where,
No good's in hell, yet he is there.

I by him, in him chosen was,
Of the choice he's not the cause:
For sov'reign mercy ne'er was bought,
Yet through his blood a vent is sought.

In him concenter'd at his death
His Father's love, his Father's wrath;
Ev'n he whom passion never seiz'd,
Was then most angry when most pleas'd.

Justice requir'd that he should die,
Who yet was slain unrighteously;
And died in mercy and in wrath,
A lawful and a lawless death.

With him I neither liv'd nor died,
And yet with him was crucify'd.
Law-curses stopt his breath, that he
Might stop its mouth from cursing me.

'Tis now a thousand years and more
Since heav'n receiv'd him; yet I know,
When he ascended up on high
To mount the throne, ev'n so did I.

Hence though earth's dunghill I embrace,
I sit with him in heav'nly place,
In divers distant orbs I move,
Inthrall'd below, inthron'd above.