JESUS, the very thought is sweet;
In that dear name all heart-joys meet;
But oh, than honey sweeter far,
The glimpses of His presence are.
2 No word is sung more sweet than this,
No name is heard more full of bliss,
No thought brings sweeter comfort nigh
Than Jesus, Son of God Most High.
3 Jesus, the hope of souls forlorn,
How good to them for sin that mourn!
To them that seek Thee, oh how kind!
But what art Thou to them that find?
4 No tongue of mortal can express,
No letters write the blessedness;
Alone, who hath Thee in his heart
Knows, love of Jesus, what Thou art.
5 O Jesus, King of wondrous might!
O Victor, glorious from the fight !
Sweetness that may not be expressed,
And altogether loveliest !
Hymnal Noted, Tr. J. M. Neal.
OH, gift of gifts! oh, grace of faith!
My God, how can it be
That Thou, who hast discerning love,
Shouldst give that gift to me?
2 How many hearts thou mightst have had More innocent than mine,
How many souls more worthy far
Of that sweet touch of thine!
3 Ah, grace, into unlikeliest hearts,
It is thy boast to come,
The glory of thy light to find
In darkest spots a home.
4 The crowd of cares, the weightiest cross, Seem trifles less than light;
Earth looks so little and so low
When faith shines full and bright!
5 Oh, happy, happy that I am!
If thou canst be, O faith,
The treasure that thou art in life,
What wilt thou be in death?
THOU art my hiding place, O Lord;
On Thee I fix my trust,
Encouraged by Thy holy word,
A feeble child of dust.
I have no argument beside,
I urge no other plea;
And 't is enough the Saviour died,
The Saviour died for me.
2 'Mid trials heavy to be borne,
When mortal strength is vain,
A heart with grief and anguish torn,
A body racked with pain ;
Ah, what could give the sufferer rest,
Bid every murmur flee,
But this, the witness in my breast
That Jesus died for me?
3 And when Thine awful voice commands This body to decay,
And life, in its last lingering sands,
Is ebbing fast away;
Then, though it be in accents weak,
And faint and tremblingly,
O give me strength in death to speak,
"My Saviour died for me."
MAJESTIC Sweetness sits enthroned
Upon the Saviour's brow;
His head with radiant glories crowned,
His lips with grace o'erflow.
No mortal can with Him compare,
Among the sons of men;
Fairer is He than all the fair
That fill the heavenly train.
2 He saw me plunged in deep distress,
He flew to my relief;
For me He bore the shameful cross,
And carried all my grief.
To Him I owe my life and breath,
And all the joys I have;
He makes me triumph over death
He saves me from the grave.
3 To heaven, the place of His abode,
He brings my weary feet;
Shows me the glories of my God,
And makes my joy complete.
Since from His bounty I receive
Such proofs of love divine,
Had I a thousand hearts to give,
Lord, they should all be Thine.
7s, 5s. 81. With Refrain.
WHEN the weary, seeking rest,
To Thy goodness flee;
When the heavy-laden cast
All their load on Thee;
When the troubled, seeking peace,
On Thy name shall call;
When the sinner, seeking life,
At Thy feet shall fall:
Hear then in love, O Lord, the cry
In heaven, Thy dwelling-place on high.
2 When the worldling, sick at heart,
Lifts his soul above;
When the prodigal looks back
To his Father's love;
When the proud man, from his pride,
Stoops to seek Thy face;
When the burdened brings his guilt
To Thy throne of grace:
Hear then in love, O Lord, the cry
In heaven, Thy dwelling-place on high.
3 When the stranger asks a home,
All his toils to end;
When the hungry craveth food,
And the poor a friend;
When the sailor on the wave
Bows the fervent knee;
When the soldier on the field.
Lifts his heart to Thee;
Hear then in love, O Lord, the cry
In heaven, Thy dwelling-place on high.
.4 When the child, with loving heart,
Youth, or maiden fair;
When the aged, trusting still,
Seek Thy face in prayer;
When the widow weeps to Thee,
Sad and lone and low;
When the orphan brings to Thee
All his orphan woe:
Hear then in love, O Lord, the cry
In heaven, Thy dwelling-place on high.
I LAY my sins on Jesus,
The spotless Lamb of God;
He bears them all, and frees us
From the accursed load.
I bring my guilt to Jesus,
To wash my crimson stains
White in His blood most precious,
Till not a stain remains.
2 I lay my wants on Jesus;
All fullness dwells in Him;
He heals all my diseases,
He doth my soul redeem:
I lay my griefs on Jesus,
My burdens and my cares;
He from them all releases,
He all my sorrows shares.
3 I rest my soul on Jesus,
This weary soul of mine;
His right hand me embraces,
I on His breast recline:
I love the name of Jesus,
Emmanuel, Christ, the Lord;
Like fragrance on the breezes,
His name abroad is poured.
4 I long to be like Jesus,
Meek, loving, lowly, mild;
I long to be like Jesus,
The Father's holy child.
I long to be with Jesus
Amid the heavenly throng,
To sing with saints His praises,
To learn the angels' song.
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