Jesus, the very thought of thee with sweetness fills my breast; but sweeter far thy face to see, and in thy presence rest.
No voice can sing, no heart can frame, nor can the mem'ry find a sweeter sound than thy blest name, O Savior of mankind.
O hope of ev'ry contrite heart, O joy of all the meek, to those who fall, how kind thou art! How good to those who seek!
But what to those who find? Ah, this no tongue or pen can show; the love of Jesus, what it is none but his loved ones know.
Jesus, our only hope be thou, as thou our prize wilt be; Jesus, be thou our glory now and through eternity.