1 Jesus, the very tho't of Thee,
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter for it is to see,
And in Thy presence rest.
Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the mem'ry find,
A sweeter sound than Thy blest name,
O, Saviour of mankind.

2 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 nor tongue nor pen can show;
The love of Jesus, what it is,
None but His loved once know.

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

4 Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the mem'ry find,
A sweeter sound than Thy blest name,
O, Saviour of mankind.