Palm Sunday/My Song Is Love Unknown

Beautiful service today at my church, St. Simon's Episcopal Church.   Father Dan said that with our procession into the church with the Palm fronds,  the Bible readings, and the beautiful hymns that he felt that the sermon had already been given.  He quoted from the last hymn that we would sing today...My Song Is Love Unknown and I found a beautiful clip from Youtube that is from England.  To be honest, our choir and the choir director/organist really are so wonderful, I wish I could have a video of them on here for you.  This choir on Youtube didn't do all the verses so I have all the verses printed at the bottom of my post.  I can never sing that last verse without crying.  Even Father Dan became choked up with emotion when he was quoting from this song, it was even more moving with this beautiful melody...

My song is love unknown,
My Savior’s love to me;
Love to the loveless shown,
That they might lovely be.
O who am I, that for my sake
My Lord should take, frail flesh and die?

He came from His blest throne
Salvation to bestow;
But men made strange, and none
The longed for Christ would know:
But O! my Friend, my Friend indeed,
Who at my need His life did spend.

Sometimes they strew His way,
And His sweet praises sing;
Resounding all the day
Hosannas to their King:
Then “Crucify!” is all their breath,
And for His death they thirst and cry.

Why, what hath my Lord done?
What makes this rage and spite?
He made the lame to run,
He gave the blind their sight,
Sweet injuries! Yet they at these
Themselves displease, and ’gainst Him rise.

They rise and needs will have
My dear Lord made away;
A murderer they saved,
The Prince of life they slay,
Yet cheerful He to suffering goes,
That He His foes from thence might free
.
In life, no house, no home
My Lord on earth might have;
In death no friendly tomb
But what a stranger gave.
What may I say? Heav’n was His home;
But mine the tomb wherein He lay.

Here might I stay and sing,
No story so divine;
Never was love, dear King!
Never was grief like Thine.
This is my Friend, in Whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend.