With My Song

This work of yours I cannot explain;
I cannot fathom its beauty, nor its pain.
In the depths of my heart you have wrought songs
Songs I never knew how to sing; in tears you taught me song.

What now, what arises within me?
What is this strange thing, this thing of beauty
This thing of pain, of joy, this thing I cannot understand?
Out of the mouths of babes...out of the hearts of the young,
You have brought perfect praise.

For you have taught me to sing where I might only have seen despair:
There
You have shown me greater beauty than I have ever known.
And with my song I will praise you.