Verse 1
The gospel-mystery
To ages past unknown,
Is manifest, O Christ, with Thee
Inhabiting thine own:
What tongue can ne’er express,
The joy of saints Thou art,
The taste of glorious happiness
In every faithful heart.
Verse 2
To this poor heart of mine,
Jesus, thyself reveal,
The earnest sure of joys divine,
And my salvation’s seal:
I only live for this,
To know thy pardning grace,
Anticipate that heavenly bliss,
And die in thy embrace.