1 Exceeding precious is my Lord;
His love divinely free!
And his dear name does health afford,
To sickly souls like me.

2 It cheers a debtor’s gloomy face,
And breaks his prison door;
It brings amazing stores of grace
To feed the gospel poor.

3 And if with lively faith we view
His dying toil and smart,
And hear him say, “It was for you!”
This breaks the stony heart.

4 A heavenly joy his words convey;
The bowels strangely move;
We blush, and melt, and faint away,
O’erwhelmed with his love.

5 In such sweet posture let me lie,
And wet thy feet with tears,
Till, joined with saints above the sky,
I tune my harp with theirs.