Jesus, my Lord, my chief delight,
For Thee I long, for Thee I pray,
Amid the shadow of the night,
Amid the business of the day.
When shall I see Thy smiling face,
That face which often I have seen?
Arise, Thou Sun of righteousness,
Scatter the clouds that intervene.
Thou art the glorious gift of God
To sinners weary and distressed;
The first of all His gifts bestowed,
And certain pledge of all the rest.
Could I but say this gift is mine,
The world should be beneath my feet;
Though poor, no more would I repine,
Or look with envy on the great.
The precious jewel I would keep,
And lodge it deep within my heart;
At home, abroad, awake, asleep,
It never should from thence depart.