My spirit longs for thee

Within my troubled breast,

Through I unworthy be

Of so divine a Guest.

2 Of so divine a Guest

Unworthy though I be,

Yet has my heart no rest

Unless it come from thee.

3 Unless it come from thee,

In vain I look around;

In all that I can see,

No rest is to be found.

4 No rest is to be found,

But in thy blesséd love:

O let my wish be crowned,

And send it from above!