I CANNOT TELL HOW

I cannot tell

how he whom angels worship

Should stoop to love

the peoples of the earth,

Or why as shepherd

he should seek the wanderer

With his mysterious

promise of new birth.

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

1a

I CANNOT TELL HOW

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 laboured,

And so the Saviour,

Saviour of the world, is come.

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

1b

I CANNOT TELL HOW

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.

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

2a

I CANNOT TELL HOW

But this I know, he heals the broken-hearted,

And stays our sin,

and calms our lurking fear,

And lifts the burden

from the heavy laden,

For yet the Saviour,

Saviour of the world, is here.

​

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

2b

I CANNOT TELL HOW

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.

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

3a

I CANNOT TELL HOW

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 Saviour,

Saviour of the world, is known.

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

3b

I CANNOT TELL HOW

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 every heart

with perfect love is filled.

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

4a

I CANNOT TELL HOW

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 Saviour,

Saviour of the world, is King!'

William Young Fullerton (1857 – 1932)

4b