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The Scottish Festival Singers
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Jesus the Very Thought of Thee
Jesus, the very thought of Thee
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter far Thy face to see,
And in Thy presence rest.
2
Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the memory find
A sweeter sound than Thy blest Name,
O Savior of mankind!
3
O Hope of every contrite heart,
O Joy of all the meek,
To those who fall, how kind Thou art!
How good to those who seek!
4
But what to those who find? Ah, this
Nor tongue nor pen can show;
The love of Jesus, what it is
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None but His loved ones know.
5
O Jesus! light of all below!
Thou fount of life and fire!
Surpassing all the joys we know,
And all we can desire.
6
No other source have we but Thee,
Soul-thirst to satisfy.
Exhaustless spring! the waters free!
All other streams are dry.
7
Jesus, our only Joy be Thou,
As Thou our Prize wilt be;
Jesus, be Thou our Glory now,
And through eternity.
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