We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud, And magnify thy name Almighty God! But man is thy most awful instrument, In working out a pure intent.
Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
And I am happy when I sing.
We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
Free as a bird to settle where I will.
As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.