O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.
--George Matheson 1884
My hymn was com posed in the manse of In ne lan [Ar gyle shire, Scot land] on the ev en ing of the 6th of June, 1882, when I was 40 years of age. I was alone in the manse at that time. It was the night of my sister’s mar ri age, and the rest of the fam i ly were stay ing over night in Glas gow. Some thing hap pened to me, which was known only to my self, and which caused me the most se vere men tal suf fering. The hymn was the fruit of that suf fer ing. It was the quick est bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the im press ion of hav ing it dic tat ed to me by some in ward voice ra ther than of work ing it out myself. I am quite sure that the whole work was com plet ed in five min utes, and equal ly sure that it ne ver re ceived at my hands any re touch ing or cor rect ion. I have no na tur al gift of rhy thm. All the other vers es I have ever writ ten are man u fact ured ar ti cles; this came like a day spring from on high.
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