This is the last verse from the hymn The Love of God by Frederick M. Lehman. When we were singing it the other day I was just struck in the most profound way.
Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.