Jesus, Thou soul of all our joys,
For whom we now lift up our voice,
And all our strength ex­ert;
Vouchsafe the grace we hum­bly claim,
Compose into a thank­ful frame,
And tune Thy peo­ple’s heart.

While in the heav­en­ly work we join,
Thy glo­ry be our whole de­sign,
Thy glo­ry, not our own:
Still let us keep our end in view,
And still the pleas­ing task pur­sue,
To please our God alone.

The sec­ret pride, the sub­tle sin,
O let it ne­ver more steal in,
To of­fend Thy glo­ri­ous eyes,
To de­se­crate our hal­lowed strain,
And make our so­lemn ser­vice vain,
And mar our sac­ri­fice!

To mag­ni­fy Thy aw­ful name,
To spread the hon­ors of the Lamb,
Let us our voic­es raise;
Our souls’ and bo­dies’ pow­ers unite,
Regardless of our own de­light,
And dead to hu­man praise.

Still let us on our guard be found,
And watch against the pow­er of sound
With sac­red jea­lou­sy;
Lest hap­ly sense should damp our zeal,
And mu­sic’s charms be­witch and steal
Our hearts away from Thee.

That hur­ry­ing strife far oft re­move,
That noi­sy burst of self­ish love,
Which swells the for­mal song;
The joy from out our hearts arise,
And speak and spar­kle in our eyes,
And vi­brate on our tongue.

Thee let us praise, our com­mon Lord,
And sweet­ly join with one ac­cord
Thy good­ness to pro­claim:
Jesus, Thy­self in us re­veal,
And all our fa­cul­ties shall feel
Thy har­mo­niz­ing name.

With calm­ly re­ver­en­tial joy,
O let us all our lives em­ploy
In set­ting forth Thy love;
And raise in death our tri­umph high­er,
And sing with all the heav­en­ly choir,
That end­less song above!