(Part of a series singing through the hymnbook I grew up with: Great Hymns of the Faith)
Jesus, the very thought of Thee
With sweetnees fills my breast;
But sweeter far Thy face to see
And in Thy presence rest.
Not voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the memm’ry find
A sweeter sound than Thy blest name,
O savior of mankind.
O hope of ev’ry contrite heart, O joy of all the meek,
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 ones know.
Jesus, our only joy be Thou,
As Thou our prize wilt be;
Jesus, be Thou our glory now
And thru eternity.