Author: Bernard of Clairvaux
O hope of every contrite heart,
O joy of all the meek,
To those who fall, how kind Thou art!
How good to those who seek!
But what to those who find?
Ah this—Nor tongue nor pen can show;
The love of Jesus, what it is
None but His loved ones show.
Jesus, our only joy be Thou,
As Thou our prize will be;
Jesus, be Thou our glory now,
And through eternity.
