My song is love unknown
Samuel Crossman (1623-1683)
 
My song is love unknown–
my Savior’s love to me;
love to the loveless shown,
that they might lovely be.
Oh, 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 oh, 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 save;
the Prince of Life they slay.
Yet cheerful He
To suff'ring 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.
 
 
Samuel Crossman was born in Suffolk, England, in 1623. He lived in turbulent times. In 1642, when Crossman was a 19-year old university student, the Civil Wars broke out in Great Britain. The Wars were a political conflict between Parliamentarians and Royalists; and a religious conflict as well—between Puritans and the established Church of England. Crossman, a Puritan, was ordained in 1647 and served both Anglican and Puritan congregations.
 
Oliver Cromwell died in 1658, and two years later King Charles II was restored to the throne, beginning the period known as the Restoration. In 1662, the worship of the Church of England was also restored, and Crossman was ejected from his parish of Little Henry in Essex; he was even arrested for preaching.
 
In 1665, the now 42-year old Crossman aligned himself with the Church of England and was reordained in 1665. He continued to serve as a priest for many years, and died in 1684, a few months after being appointed Dean of Bristol Cathedral.
 
In 1664 – during the years between the Puritan and the Anglican eras in his ministry – Crossman published “The Young Man’s Meditation,” a little book containing just nine poems. Among these poems is Crossman’s best-remembered work, “My song is love unknown.”
 
“My song is love unknown - / my Savior’s love to me; / love to the loveless shown, / That they might lovely be.” The first words are striking. We wouldn’t perhaps think of Christ’s redeeming love as “unknown.” What image is more familiar than the image of Christ on the cross? Christ’s love is unknown in that it is unfathomable; it is also unknown in that it is unappreciated.
 
Christ’s love is where the poem begins. We, on the other hand, are the “loveless,” a word which also has dual meanings. Christ loves the “loveless”—those who are not loved; but he also loves the “loveless” – those who are without love. In loving us, Christ makes us “lovely.” Being loved makes us lovely—lovable—capable of loving.
 
Each stanza in the poem consists of eight lines – four longer lines, and four shorter lines. The longer lines tell the story of Christ’s saving life, passion, death, and resurrection—“he came from his blest throne”; “he made the lame to run”; “the Prince of Life they slay.” The shorter lines tend to be more personal – expressing the human response to Christ’s “love unknown.” “Oh, who am I, / That for my sake / My Lord should take / Frail flesh and die?” In this way, the stanzas juxtapose Christ’s love, and the response of those whom he loved: people like us. The short lines almost feel broken – the halting rhythm of the poem emphasizes the contrast between Christ’s generous love and our inadequate response.
 
At the same time that Crossman laments the human failure to recognize Christ, the poem also expresses a warm, intimate love—the love of friends. Three times, he refers to Jesus as a friend: “oh, my Friend, / My Friend indeed.” Friendship is the note the poem ends on: “This is my Friend.” Jesus’ saving love, his “love unknown,” is for us – not generically, but specifically! Jesus dies for all and each of us—indeed, he dies our death: “mine the tomb / Wherein he lay.”
 
Crossman’s poem is simple and heartfelt. And, in a time of religious controversy, it goes straight to the heart of the Christian mystery, and the unknown, undeserved love of Christ for the human family.
 
Crossman’s poem might have been forgotten if English composer John Ireland had not set the poem to music in 1925. Today, “My song is love unknown” is a standard hymn, found in hymnals across the English speaking world—and, in a turn of events Crossman himself would surely appreciate, across denominational divides.  Let’s end this reflection with the musical setting of the poem—sung by the choir of King’s College, Cambridge.
 
https://youtu.be/HMart4wXsI0?si=1Mbft1dW83GjXZA7