Singing for Jesus, singing for Jesus,
Trying to serve Him wherever I go;
Pointing the lost to the way of salvation—
This be my mission, a pilgrim below.
When in the strains of my country I mingle,
When to exalt her my voice I would raise;
’Tis for His glory, whose arm is her refuge,
Him would I honor, His name would I praise,
His name would I praise.
Singing for Jesus hymns of devotion,
Lifting the soul on her pinions of love;
Dropping a word or a thought by the wayside,
Telling of rest in the mansions above.
Music may soften where language would fail us,
Feelings long buried ’twill often restore.
Tones that were breathed from the lips of departed,
How we revere them when they are no more!
When they are no more!
Singing for Jesus, blessèd Redeemer,
God of the pilgrims, for Thee I will sing;
When o’er the billows of time I am wafted,
Still with Thy praise shall eternity ring.
Glory to God for the prospect before me,
Soon shall my spirit transported ascend;
Singing for Jesus, O blissful employment,
Loud hallelujahs that never will end,
That never will end.