Thou Thoughtest That I Was Altogether Such An One As Thyself. Would I, To Save My Dear Child Dutiful, Dare The White Breakers On A Storm-Rent Shore? Ay, Truly, Thou All Good, All Beautiful, Truly I Would, - Then Truly Thou Would'St More. Would I For My Poor Son, Who Desolate After Long Sinning, Sued Without My Door For Pardon, Open It? Ay, Fortunate To Hear Such Prayer, I Would, - Lord, Thou Would'St More. Would I For E'En The Stranger'S Weariness And Want Divide, Albeit 'Twere Scant, My Store? Ay, And Mine Enemy, Sick, Shelterless, Dying, I Would Attend, - O, Lord, Thou More. In Dust And Ashes My Long Infamy Of Unbelief I Rue. My Love Before Thy Love I Set: My Heart'S Discovery, Is Sweet, - Whate'Er I Would, Thou Wouldest More. I Was Thy Shelterless, Sick Enemy, And Thou Didst Die For Me, Yet Heretofore I Have Fear'D; Now Learn I Love'S Supremacy, - Whate'Er Is Known Of Love, Thou Lovest More.