Evermore endure the saints' and angels' song. Cradling a heat the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made, Every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade. To write they all of God above Would drain the ocean dry. Nor could the scroll contain the whole Though stretched from sky to sky. O love of God, how rich and pure, How measureless and strong! It shall forevermore endure The saints' and angels' song. © transcript Emily Beynon