I am not moved to love you, God,
By hope for heav'n's reward;
Nor am I moved by fear of hell
To turn from sin, my Lord.
What moves me, God, is seeing you,
Despised and nailed up high
Upon that cross with gaping wounds,
Rejected, left to die.
Your love so moves me, Lord, that if
There were no heav'n or hell,
I still would fear your holy name
And truly love you well.
And so I need no promises
To sway my love for you;
For even if I had no hope,
I'd love you as I do.
Anonymous, attributed to Santa Teresa
Translation by Hugh Seay