1 Jesus, the very thought of thee with sweetness fills the breast; but sweeter far thy face to see, and in thy presence rest. 2 No voice can sing, no heart can frame, Nor can the memory find A sweeter sound than Jesus’ name, The 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, none but his loved ones know. 5 Jesus, our only joy be thou, as thou our prize wilt be; Jesus, be thou our glory now, and through eternity.