This is all I can find:
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The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell;

It goes beyond the highest star and reaches to the lowest hell.

The guilty pair bowed down with care, God gave his Son to win;

His erring child he reconciled, and pardoned from his sin.

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,ß

To write the love of God above would drain the ocean dry,

Nor could the scroll contain the whole tho' stretched from sky to sky.

O, love of God, how rich and pure! How measureless and strong!

It shall forever more endure—'Tis saints' and angels' song!
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