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.