I cannot breathe enough of Thee,
O gentle Breeze of Love;
More fragrant than the myrtle tree
The Rose of Sharon is to me,
The Balm of heav’n above,
The Balm of heav’n above.
I cannot gaze enough on Thee,
Thou Fairest of the Fair;
My heart is filled with ecstasy,
As in Thy face of radiancy
I see such beauty there,
I see such beauty there.
I cannot yield enough to Thee,
My Savior, Master, Friend;
I do not wish to go out free,
But ever, always, willingly,
To serve Thee to the end,
To serve Thee to the end.
I cannot sing enough of Thee,
The sweetest name on earth;
A note so full of melody
Comes from my heart so joyously,
And fills my soul with mirth,
And fills my soul with mirth.
I cannot speak enough of Thee,
I have so much to tell;
Thy heart it beats so tenderly
As Thou dost draw me close to Thee
And whisper, ‘All is well,’
And whisper, ‘All is well.’