The wond’ring world inquires to know
Why I should love my Jesus so;
What are his charms, say they, above
The objects of a mortal love?
His eyes are majesty and love,
The eagle temper’d with the dove;
No more shall trickling sorrows roll,
Thro’ those dear windows of his soul.
All over glorious is my Lord,
Must be belov’d and yet ador’d;
His worth if all the nations knew,
Sure the whole earth would love him too.