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.”