Ah, Jesus, Lord, thou art near to me,
Great peace flows into my heart from thee,
And thy smile of love fills me so with gladness,
This weary body forgets its sadness,
For thankful joy.
We see thy countenance beaming bright,
Thy grace, thy beauty — by faith, not sight;
But thou art thyself to our souls revealing:
We love thee, thy presence and favor feeling,
Although unseen.
Oh! who would only, by night and day,
Be set on joying in thee alway,
He could but tell of delight abounding,
Through body and soul one song resounding,
“Who is like thee?”
To be compassionate, patient, kind,
Thy pardon leaving our sins behind —
To heal us, calm us, our faint hearts cheering,
Thyself to us as a friend endearing,
Is thy delight.
Ah! give us to find our all of joy
In thee, thy service our sweet employ,
And let our souls with a constant yearning,
In need and love to thyself be turning,
Without a pause.
And when we are weeping, console us soon,
Thy grace and power for thy peace make room;
Thy mirror’d likeness thy praises telling,
Thine own true life in our bosoms dwelling,
In love be seen.
Truthful in childlike simplicity,
Guileless, arrayed in humility,
Be the holy wounds of thy tribulation
The fount of our peace and our consolation
In joy and woe.
Thus happy in thee till we enter heaven,
The children’s gladness to us be given;
And if, peradventure, our eyes are weeping,
Our hearts on thy bosom shall hush their beating
In full repose.
Thou reachest us, Jesus, thy pierced hand;
Thy faithfulness, gazing, we understand;
And, shamed into tears by thy love so tender;
Our eyes flow over, our hearts surrender,
And give thee praise!