O, Jesus, my Savior, I know Thou art mine;
For Thee all the pleasures of sin I resign;
Of objects most pleasing I love Thee the best;
Without Thee I’m wretched, but with Thee I’m blest.
The Spirit first taught me to know I was blind,
Then taught me the way of salvation to find;
And when I was sinking in gloomy despair,
Thy mercy relieved me and bid me not fear.
In vain I attempt to describe what I feel;
The language of mortals or angels would fail;
My Jesus is precious, my soul’s in a flame;
I’m raised to a rapture while praising His name.