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 memory find
A sweeter sound than Thy blest name,
O Saviour of mankind!

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!

And those who find Thee, find a bliss
No tongue nor pen can show:
The love of Jesus-what it is,
None but His loved ones know.

Jesus! our only joy be Thou,
As Thou our prize wilt be.
Jesus! be Thou our glory now,
And though eternity.