1.

Thou hast made me endless, such is thy

pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest

again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh

life.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried

over hills and dales, and hast breathed

through it melodies eternally new.

At the immortal touch of thy hands my little

heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to

utterance ineffable.

Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these

very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and

still thou pourest, and still there is room to

fill