I Cannot Tell How He Whom Angels Worship

I cannot tell why He, whom angels worship, Should set His love upon the sons of men, Or why, as shepherds, He should seek the wanderers, To bring them back, they know not how or when.

I cannot tell how silently He suffered, As with His peace He graced this place of tears, Or how His heart upon the cross was broken, The crown of pain to three and thirty years.

I cannot tell how He will win the nations, How He will claim His earthly heritage, How satisfy the needs and aspirations Of east and west, of sinner and of sage.

I cannot tell how the lands shall worship, When, at His bidding, every storm is stilled, Or who can say how great the jubilation When all the hearts of men with love are filled.