1 Jesus, the very thought of thee
with sweetness fills my breast.
But sweeter far thy face to see,
and in thy presence rest.
2 Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
nor can the mind recall
a sweeter sound than thy blest name,
O Savior of us all.
3 O hope of every contrite heart,
O joy of all the meek,
to those who fall, how kind thou art!
How good to those who seek!
4 But what to those who find? Ah, this
nor tongue nor pen can show.
The love of Jesus, what it is
none but his loved ones know.
5 Jesus, our only joy be thou,
as thou our prize wilt be.
Jesus, be thou our glory now,
and through eternity.
