The glimpses of his presence are.
2 No word is sung more sweet than this;
No name is heard more full of bliss;
No thought brings sweeter comfort nigh,
Than Jesus, Son of God, most high.
3 Jesus, the hope of souls forlorn!
How good to them for sin that mourn;
To them that seek thee, O how kind!
But what art thou to them that find?
4 No tongue of mortal can express,