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O Jesus, my Savior, I know thou art mine,
For thee all the pleasures of sin I resign;
Of objects most pleasing, I love thee the best,
Without thee I'm wretched, but with thee I'm blest.
Thy Spirit first taught me to know I was blind,
Then taught me the way of salvation to find;
And when I was sinking in gloomy despair,
Thy mercy relieved me, and bid me not fear.
In vain I attempt to describe what I feel,
The language of mortals or angels would fail;
My Jesus is precious, my soul's in a flame,
I'm raised to a rapture while praising his name.
I find him in singing, I find him in prayer,
In sweet meditation he always is near;
My constant companion, O may we ne'er part!
All glory to Jesus, he dwells in my heart.
I love thee, my Savior, I love thee, my Lord,
I love thy dear people, thy ways, and thy word;
With tender emotion I love sinners too,
Since Jesus has died to redeem them from woe.
My Jesus is precious--I cannot forbear,
Though sinners despise me, his love to declare;
His love overwhelms me; had I wings I'd fly
To praise him in mansions prepared in the sky.
Then millions of ages my soul would employ
In praising my Jesus, my love and my joy
Without interruption, when all the glad throng
With pleasures unceasing unite in the song.
The Southern Harmony