Of All The Joys We Mortals Know


Of all the joys we mortals know,
Jesus, thy love exceeds the rest;
Love, the best blessing here below,
The highest rapture of the blest.

While we are held in thy embrace,
There’s not a thought attempts to rove;
Each smile that’s seen upon thy face,
Fixes, and charms, and fires our love.

When of thine absence we complain,
And long, and weep, and humbly pray;
There’s a strange pleasure in the pain,–
Those tears are sweet which mourn thy stay.

When round thy courts by day we rove,
Or ask the watchmen of the night
For some kind tidings from above,
Thy very name creates delight.

Jesus, our God, descend and come;
Our eyes shall dwell upon thy face;
‘Tis heav’n to see our Lord at home,
And feel the presence of his grace.