Text: | Jesus precious |
1 Bless'd Jesus, when my soaring thoughts
O’er all thy graces rove,
How is my soul in transport lost--
In wonder, joy and love!
2 Not softest strains can charm mine ears,
Like thy beloved name;
Nor aught beneath the skies inspire,
My heart with equal flame.
3 Where’er I look, my wond'ring eyes
Unnumber'd blessings see;
But what is life, with all its bliss,
If once compared to thee?
4 Hast thou a rival in my breast?
Search, Lord, for thou canst tell;
If aught can raise my passions thus,
Or please my soul so well.
5 No, thou art precious to my heart,
My portion and my joy;
For ever let thy boundless grace
My sweetest thoughts employ.
6 When nature faints, around my bed
Let thy bright glories shine;
And death shall all his terrors lose,
In raptures so divine.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Bless'd Jesus, when my soaring thoughts |
Title: | Jesus precious |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1845 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | The Christain: His Duty and Graces; Love to Christ |