Whatever I have said or sung,
Some bitter notes my harp would give,
Yea, tho' there often seem'd to live
A contradiction on the tongue,

Yet Hope had never lost her youth;
She did but look through dimmer eyes;
Or Love but play'd with gracious lies, 
Because he felt so fix'd in truth:

And if the song were full of care,
He breathed the spirit of the song;
And if the words were sweet and strong 
He set his royal signet there;

Abiding with me till I sail 
To seek thee on the mystic deeps, 
And this electric force, that keeps 
A thousand pulses dancing, fail.