A liv­ing stream, as crys­tal clear,
Welling from out the throne,
Of God and of the Lamb on high,
The Lord to man hath shown.

This stream doth wa­ter pa­ra­dise,
It makes the an­gels sing:
One pre­cious drop with­in the heart
Is of all joy the spring:

Joy past all speech, of glo­ry full,
But stored where none may know,
As man­na hid in dewy hea­ven,
As pearls in ocean low.

Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard,
Nor to man’s heart hath come
What for those lov­ing Thee in truth
Thou hast in love’s own home.

But by His Spir­it He to us
The sec­ret doth re­veal:
Faith sees and hears: but O for wings
That we might taste, and feel;

Wings like a dove to waft us on
High o’er the flood of sin!
Lord of the ark, put forth Thine hand,
And take Thy wan­der­ers in.

O praise the Fa­ther, praise the Son,
The Lamb for sin­ners given,
And Ho­ly Ghost, through whom alone
Our hearts are raised to Heav’n.