Thee, God of mercy,—heaven’s immortal King!
Yet to that happiness I’d fain aspire—
Oh! fill my heart with elevated fire:
With angel-songs an artless voice shall blend,
The grateful offering shall to Thee ascend.
Yes! Thou wilt breathe a spirit o’er my lyre,
And “fill my beating heart with sacred fire!”
And when to Thee my youth, my life, I’ve given,
Raise me to join Eliza,[1] blest in Heaven.
[1] A sister whom the author had lost.