2 Fount of all our joy and peace,
To thy living waters lead me;
Thou from earth my soul release,
And with grace and mercy feed me;
Bless thy Word that it may prove
Rich in fruits that thou dost love.
3 Kindle thou the sacrifice
That upon my lips is lying;
Clear the shadows from mine eyes,
That, from every error flying,
No strange fire may in me glow
That thine altar doth not know.
4 Let me with my heart to-day,
Holy, Holy, Holy, singing,
Rapt awhile from earth away,
All my soul to thee up-springing,
Ilave a foretaste inly given,
How they worship thee in heaven.
5 Rest in me and I in thee,
Build a paradise within me;
O reveal thyself to me,
Blessed Love, who died'st to win mne:
Fed from thine exhaustless urn,
Pure and bright my lamp shall burn.
6 Hence all care, all vanity,
For the day to God is holy:
Come, thou glorious Majesty,
Deign to fill this temple lowly;
Nought to-day my soul shall move,
Simply resting in thy love.
Schmolke, Tr. by Miss C. Winkworth. 1858.