[Lift]1 up my heart, and sing again 
As once you did when I was young. 
Before I knew of woe and pain. 
When every happy bird that sung 
I sang to it, and it to me 
Repeated half the melody. 
Like a thrush at peep of light, 
I would pipe my sunny lay, 
Singing how the blackest night 
Always has to run away 
When the sun climbs from afar 
Brandishing his scimitar. 
Like an eagle's is your cry ; 
More of fierceness than of glee 
Sent your pinions to the sky 
Bounding our humanity ; 
Sent you winging to the sun 
That is seen of every one.