These eyes, that were half-closed in death,
Now dare the noontide blaze;
My voice, that scarce could speak my wants,
Now hymns Jehovah's praise.

How pleasant to my feet unused,
To tread the daisied ground!
How sweet to my unwonted ear
The streamlet's lulling sound.

How soft the first breath of the breeze
That on my temples play'd!
How sweet the woodland evening song,
Full floating down the glade!

But sweeter far the lark that soars
Through morning's blushing ray;
For then unseen, unheard, I join
His lonely heavenward lay.

And sweeter still that infant voice,
With all its artless charms; -
'Twas such as he that Jesus took,
And cherish'd in his arms.

O Lord my God! all these delights
I to thy mercy owe;
For thou hast raised me from the couch
Of sickness, pain, and wo.

'Twas thou that from the whelming wave
My sinking soul redeem'd;
'Twas thou that o'er destruction's storm
A calming radiance beam'd.