When I gave all to Je­sus,
He gave Him­self to me;
And now my joy is per­fect,
While His blest smile I see;
All my works of death are done,
And thro’ Christ the vic­to­ry’s won,
And I walk in con­stant tri­umph
With our God’s in­car­nate Son.

Joy past all un­der­stand­ing,
I find in Christ the Lord;
And my soul’s at rest for­ev­er,
Thro’ His aton­ing blood;
Every foe was forced to flee,
And I found sweet vic­to­ry,
When I met the glo­ri­ous vic­tim
Of the cross of Cal­va­ry.

My trea­sure’s ov­er yon­der,
In that blest land of light,
Where sin nor pain ne’er en­ter,
Nor day-beams end in night;
Where the blood-washed mill­ions dwell,
And their glo­ri­ous an­them swell,
There my soul shall rest for­ev­er
Where is heard no fun­er­al knell.

I’m worn with con­stant war­ring,
Where fie­ry darts still fly;
My wea­ry soul is long­ing
To soar to realms on high,
For I long to see Christ come
And take all His ran­somed home,
To the house of ma­ny man­sions,
There to rest in peace at home.

O blest and hap­py coun­try,
O land so glad and free;
When shall I reach thy bor­ders,
And thy sweet grand­eur see?
I shall see Christ’s glo­ri­ous face,
And shall feel His blest em­brace,
As I help to swell the an­them
To the glor­ies of His grace.