There is always something over,

When we taste our gracious Lord;

Every cup He fills o'erfloweth,

Rich supply He doth afford.

Nothing narrow, nothing stinted,

Ever issued from His store;

To His own He gives full measure,

Running over, evermore.

There is always something over,

When we, from the Father's hand,

Take our portion with thanksgiving,

Praising for the things He planned.

Satisfaction, full and deepening,

All our need He doth supply.

When the heart has tasted Jesus

Its desires to satisfy.

There is always something over,

When we share in all His love;

Unplumbed depths still lie beneath us,

Unscaled heights rise far above.

Human lips can never utter

All His wondrous tenderness.

We can only praise and wonder

And His Name forever bless.