And from earth's low delight it turns,
To taste a joy like that above.
2 When thou to me dost condescend,
In love divine, thou blessed One,
The moments that with thee I spend,
Seem e'en as Heaven itself begun.
3 Though oft these lips my love have told,
They still the story would repeat;
To me the rapture ne'er grows old,
That thrills me, bending at thy feet.