My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze; For above and around me the wild wind is roaring, Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas. ...
Music I love, but never strain Could kindle raptures so divine, So grief assuage, so conquer pain, And rouse this pensive heart of mine, As that we hear on Christmas morn, Upon the wintry breezes borne....
My God! O let me call Thee mine! Weak wretched sinner though I be, My trembling soul would fain be Thine, My feeble faith still clings to Thee, My feeble faith still clings to Thee. ...