To sweeter pitch the chords are rung
Till liquid sweetness stirs the air,
As if an angel floated there.
Floated there in bliss divine,
In bliss too holy to define;
In bliss so high I sigh, I faint,
The image of that bliss to paint.
To sweeter pitch the chords are rung
Till liquid sweetness stirs the air,
As if an angel floated there.
Floated there in bliss divine,
In bliss too holy to define;
In bliss so high I sigh, I faint,
The image of that bliss to paint.