My soul doth magnify the Lord,
My spirit doth rejoice
In God, my Savior and my God;
I hear His joyful voice.
I need not go abroad for joys,
I have a feast at home;
My sighs are turned into songs,
The Comforter is come.

Down from above, the blessed Dove
Is come into my breast;
Witness of God's eternal love,
This is my heav'nly feast.
This makes me, “Abba, Father!” cry,
With confidence of soul:
This makes me cry, “My Lord, my God,”
And that without control.

There is a stream which issues forth
From God's eternal throne,
And from the land a living stream,
Clear as a crystal stone.
This stream doth water Paradise,
It makes the angels sing;
One cordial drop revives my heart,
Thence all my joys do spring.

Such joys as these, unspeakable,
And full of glory, too;
Such hidden manna, hidden pearls,
As worldlings do not know.
Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard,
From fancy 'tis concealed,
What Thou, Lord, hast laid up for Thine,
And hast to me revealed.

Then should my soul with angels feast
On joys that ever last;
Refined, full, and always sweet,
Delighting to the taste.
Blest be my God, the God of joys,
Who gives me here a crumb,
And fills my soul with earnest hope
Till I arrive at home.