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.

My Jesus is precious, I cannot forbear,
Though sinners despise me, his love to declare;
His love overwhelms me, had I wings to fly,
I’d 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.

Recordings 1, 2, 3, 4, 5