To the mind a swaying He confers,
He confers, He confers.
In thought's abode a stir having given,
At crannies stunned having answered,
On the remote sky He runs,
Runs, runs, runs.
Who is He that came and filled the world,
Making all things surge?
Within me, unobserved,
Knowing Him was difficult,
Difficult, difficult.
Oh Who are You that grants recognition,
Who states this coming isn't a visit.
To obtain You heart is eager;
Just Your song, sing it does,
Sing it does, it does.
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He came and churned my thought, a blissive topsy-turvy.
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