1 O could I lift this heart of mine
Above these creature things,
I’d fly, and leave this world below,
As though on eagle’s wings.

2 [But ah! I feel no love at all,
Can neither praise nor pray;
O would the Lord but shine again,
And turn this night to day!]

3 But whither can I go to lodge
My sorrow and complaint?
Unless the Lord is pleased to shine,
I mope, I grieve, I faint.

4 I find my striving all in vain,
Unless my Lord is near;
My heart is hard; I’m such a wretch –
Can neither love nor fear.

5 I ask my soul this question then,
For here I would begin:
O do I feel a want of Christ
To save me from my sin?

6 The souls redeemed by precious blood
Are taught this lesson well;
’Tis not of him that wills or runs,
But Christ who saves from hell.