Jesus, the very thought of thee,
With sweetness fills the breast;
But sweeter far thy face to see,
And in thy presence rest.
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!
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;
Jesus, be thou our glory now,
And through eternity.
This song is Copyright © 2025 by Robert K. Lewis. Poem Lyrics are by Bernard of Clairvaux, 1130 A.D., and are in the Pubic Domain. The A.I. Samplings are Copyright by their respective creators. The completed song is A.I. generated by MusicHero.ai and is Licensed to Robert K. Lewis.
