Jesus, the very thought of Thee With sweetness fills the breast; But sweeter far Thy face to see, And in Thy presence rest. No voice can sing, no heart can frame, Nor can the memory find A sweeter sound than Jesus' name, The Saviour of mankind. O Hope of every contrite heart, O Joy of all the meek, To those who ask, 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; In Thee be all our glory now, And through eternity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE SECOND DAY: LADY WENTWORTH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FRAGMENTS OF A LOST GNOSTIC POEM OF THE 12TH CENTURY by HERMAN MELVILLE ELOISA TO ABELARD by ALEXANDER POPE SONNET: 151 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE PALAMON AND ARCITE, OR THE KNIGHT'S TALE: BOOK 3 by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |