Earth Has Nothing Sweet Or Fair


Earth has nothing sweet or fair,
Lovely forms or beauties rare,
But before my eyes they bring
Christ, of beauty Source and Spring.

When the morning paints the skies,
When the golden sunbeams rise,
Then my Saviour’s form I find
Brightly imaged on my mind.

When the star-beams pierce the night,
Oft I think of Jesus’ light;
Think how bright that light will be,
Shining through eternity.

Come, Lord Jesus! and dispel
This dark cloud in which I dwell,
And to me the power impart
To behold Thee as Thou art.