I Cannot Tell

I can­not tell why He whom an­gels wor­ship

Should set His love up­on the sons of men

Or why

as shep­herd

He should seek the wan­der­ers

To bring them back

they know not how or when.

But this I know

that He was born of Ma­ry

When Beth­le­hem’s man­ger was His on­ly home

And that He lived at Na­za­reth and la­bored

And so the Sav­ior

Sav­ior of the world is come.

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.

But this I know

He heals the brok­en­heart­ed

And stays our sin

and calms our lurk­ing fear

And lifts the bur­den from the hea­vy la­den

For yet the Sav­ior

Sav­ior of the world is here.

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.

But this I know

all flesh shall see His glo­ry

And He shall reap the har­vest He has sown

And some glad day His sun shall shine in splen­dor

When He the Sav­ior

Sav­ior of the world is known.

I can­not tell how all 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.

But this I know

the skies will thrill with rap­ture

And my­ri­ad

my­ri­ad hu­man voic­es sing

And earth to Heav­en

And Heav­en to earth

will an­swer:

At last the Sav­ior

Sav­ior of the world is king!