My soul doth magnify the Lord,
My spirit doth rejoice
In God my Savior and my God,
I hear his joyful voice.
I need not go abroad for joy,
Who have a feast at home;
My sighs are turnèd into songs,
The Comforter is come.1
Down from above the blessèd Dove
Is come into my breast,
To witness God’s eternal love,
This is my heavenly feast.
This makes me “Abba, Father!” cry
With confidence of soul;
It makes me cry, “My Lord, my God!”
And that without control.
There is a stream that issues forth
From God’s eternal throne,
And from the Lamb, a living stream,
Clear as the crystal stone.
The streams do water paradise,
It makes the angels sing;
One cordial drop revives my heart,
Hence all my joys do spring.
Such joys as are unspeakable,
And full of glory too;
Such hidden manna, hidden pearls,
As worldlings do not know.
Eye hath not seen nor ear hath heard,
From fancy ’tis conceal’d,
What Thou, Lord, hast laid up for Thine,
And hast to me reveal’d.
I see Thy face, I hear Thy voice,
I taste Thy sweetest love,
My soul doth leap, but O for wings,
The wings of Noah’s dove!
Then would I flee far hence away,
Leaving this world of sin:
Then should my Lord put forth His hand,
And kindly take me in.
Then should my soul with angels feast,
On joys that always last;
Bless’d be my God, the God of joy,
Who gives me here a taste.