Our spirit wings its flight. But, lo, he now is routed, His boast is turned to gloom. In love for me hath won. Howe'er he rave and storm. My heart from care is free, No trouble troubles me.
Misfortune now is play, And night is bright as day.
I follow through it all. You may freely distribute, copy or print this text. This document is from the Christian Classics Ethereal Library at Calvin College. Last updated on October 30, 1999.