Lord of spir­its, I sur­ren­der
For Thy use Thy gifts to me:
O but show Thy mer­cy ten­der
When my song no more shall be;
More and more my heart’s aflut­ter
With the thoughts I may not ut­ter,
While life’s rid­dle great I pon­der.

Let my laur­els in obli­vi­on
Turn to dust, I shall re­joice
If my soul, re­newed, is giv­en
There to sing with sac­red voice,
If, in ac­cents pure and glo­ri­ous,
I may join the hymn vic­to­ri­ous
At Thy throne to harps of Hea­ven.