I love to hear of Jesus,
Whose quenchless, deathless love
Brought Him from highest glory-
The Father's home above.
In grace and boundless goodness
He left yon world of bliss,
And came, God's Lamb, to suffer
For a guilty world like this.

I love to think of Jesus,
The Holy and Divine,
Who died between yon culprits
To win this soul of mine.
He paid the utmost farthing
Of my augmented debt-
That love supreme, unfathomed,
I never can forget.

I love to speak of Jesus,
To pilgrims on their way-
Saved from the hell of darkness
That once before them lay;
And of the glorious heaven
That sinners will possess
If they receive the Saviour,
And Him as Lord confess.

I love to work for Jesus
On earth's dark fields of time;
His service is so precious-
Most noble and sublime.
'Tis work that stands forever;
Why then should I not toil ?
When He rewards His servants,
Each act will be on file.

But let me not be prompted
To work for the reward;
I would not toil for garlands,
But only for my Lord.
'Tis love-pure love to Jesus-
That keeps me plodding on;
So in His strength I'll labor
Until the day is gone.
And then it will be worship,
Unhindered, full and sweet;
I'll cast my crown before Him,
I'll cast it at His feet.
In accents loud, unending,
I'll join to sing the song
With all the saints in glory,
Uncounted millions strong.

C. C. Crowston