Yet, I may come and come again to thee
With this—the contrite sinner's truthful plea—
"Thou lovest me!"
Oh! fill me, Jesus! Saviour! with thy love!
My woes but drive me to the fount above:
Thither may I in childlike faith draw nigh,
And never to another fountain fly
But unto thee!
And when, my Jesus, thy dear face I see,
When at that lofty throne I bend the knee,