| Song | New Hymn |
| Artist | James Taylor |
| Album | James Taylor Live |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Price, Taylor | |
| Source of all we hope or dread | |
| Sheepdog, jackyl, rattler, swan | |
| We hunt your face and long to trust | |
| That your hid mouth will say again let there be light | |
| A clear new day | |
| But when we thirst in this dry night | |
| We drink from hot wells poisoned with the blood of children | |
| And when we strain to hear a steady homing beam | |
| Our ears are balked by stiffled moans | |
| And howls of desolation from the throats of sisters, brother, wild men | |
| Clawing at the gates for bread | |
| Even our own feeble hands | |
| Aim to seize the crown you wear | |
| And work our private havock through | |
| The known and unknown lands of space | |
| Absolute in flame beyond us | |
| Seed and source of dark and day | |
| Maker whom we beg to be | |
| Our mother father comrade mate | |
| Til our few atoms blow to dust | |
| Or form again in wiser lives | |
| Or find your face and hear our name | |
| In your calm voice the end of night | |
| If dark may end | |
| Wellspring gold of dark and day | |
| Be here, be now |
| zuo ci : Price, Taylor | |
| Source of all we hope or dread | |
| Sheepdog, jackyl, rattler, swan | |
| We hunt your face and long to trust | |
| That your hid mouth will say again let there be light | |
| A clear new day | |
| But when we thirst in this dry night | |
| We drink from hot wells poisoned with the blood of children | |
| And when we strain to hear a steady homing beam | |
| Our ears are balked by stiffled moans | |
| And howls of desolation from the throats of sisters, brother, wild men | |
| Clawing at the gates for bread | |
| Even our own feeble hands | |
| Aim to seize the crown you wear | |
| And work our private havock through | |
| The known and unknown lands of space | |
| Absolute in flame beyond us | |
| Seed and source of dark and day | |
| Maker whom we beg to be | |
| Our mother father comrade mate | |
| Til our few atoms blow to dust | |
| Or form again in wiser lives | |
| Or find your face and hear our name | |
| In your calm voice the end of night | |
| If dark may end | |
| Wellspring gold of dark and day | |
| Be here, be now |
| zuò cí : Price, Taylor | |
| Source of all we hope or dread | |
| Sheepdog, jackyl, rattler, swan | |
| We hunt your face and long to trust | |
| That your hid mouth will say again let there be light | |
| A clear new day | |
| But when we thirst in this dry night | |
| We drink from hot wells poisoned with the blood of children | |
| And when we strain to hear a steady homing beam | |
| Our ears are balked by stiffled moans | |
| And howls of desolation from the throats of sisters, brother, wild men | |
| Clawing at the gates for bread | |
| Even our own feeble hands | |
| Aim to seize the crown you wear | |
| And work our private havock through | |
| The known and unknown lands of space | |
| Absolute in flame beyond us | |
| Seed and source of dark and day | |
| Maker whom we beg to be | |
| Our mother father comrade mate | |
| Til our few atoms blow to dust | |
| Or form again in wiser lives | |
| Or find your face and hear our name | |
| In your calm voice the end of night | |
| If dark may end | |
| Wellspring gold of dark and day | |
| Be here, be now |