Like a sunbeam has swept o’er my heart;
I would praise Thee for sins all forgiven,
For Thy love, which shall never depart.
If the sun shines his praise unto Thee,
If the wind, as it sighs through the wood,
Makes a murmur of song from each tree,
Though unworthy the praises must be;
Shall all nature be vocal and sing,
And no psalm of rejoicing from me?
I would worship Thee, Savior Divine;
And rejoice, though surrounded with praises,
Thou wilt still hear a song such as mine.