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For grace is fearful, which each hour
Our path in life has crossed; If it were rarer, it might be
Less easy to be lost.
But fear is love, and love is fear,
And in and out they move; But fear is an intenser joy
Than mere unflightened love.
When most I fear Thee, Lord! then most
Familiar I appear; And I am in my soul most free,
When I am most in fear.
I should not love Thee as I do, If love might make more free;
Its very sweetness would be lost In greater liberty.
I feel Thee most a Father when
I fancy Thee most near; And Thou comest not so nigh in love
As Thou comest, Lord ! in fear.
They love Thee little, if at all,
Who do not fear Thee much ; If love is Thine attraction, Lord !
Fear is Thy very touch. '