Jesus, thou soul of all our joys,
For whom we now lift up our voice,
And all our strength exert;
Vouchsafe the grace we humbly claim;
Compose into a thankful frame,
And tune Thy people’s heart.

While in the heav’nly work we join,
Thy glory be our whole design;
Thy glory, not our own:
Still let us keep our end in view,
And still the pleasing task pursue,
To please our God alone.

The secret pride, the subtle sin,
Oh let it never more steal in,
T’offend Thy glor’ous eyes!
To desecrate our hallowed strain,
And make our solemn service vain,
And mar our sacrifice.

To magnify Thy awful name,
To spread the honors of the Lamb,
Let us our voices raise;
Our souls’ and bodies’ pow’rs unite,
Regardless of our own delight,
And dead to human praise.

Recordings none