So good is my King that I understand it not. His words, not true, but truth itself, Glorious, Exalted, Most Praiseworthy! I praise Him, not for reason's sake nor desert, but this: He is the very meaning of the act. If He cast me out from His great City beyond walls and moats, alone in sadness, forsaken, wondering what wisdom is this... He is a most gracious sovereign! and the greatest host! By remoteness, He draws me near; by darkness, sharpens my sight. So good is my King that I understand it not. My love for Him must never be conditioned on His love for me.