Solomon Ibn Gabirol

Send your spirit to revive our corpses, and ripple the longed-for land again. The crops come from you; you’re good to all— and always return to restore what has been.

I look for you early, my rock and my refuge, offering you worship morning and night; before your vastness I come confused and afraid, for you see the thoughts of my heart. What could the heart and tongue compose, or spirit’s strength within me to suit you? But song soothes you and so I’ll give praise to your being as long as your breath-in-me moves.