Jesus, thy mercies are untold


Jesus, thy mercies are untold
through each returning day;
thy love exceeds a thousandfold
whatever we can say;

that love which in thy passion drained
for us thy precious Blood;
that love whereby the saints have gained
the vision of their God;

'tis thou hast loved us from the womb,
pure source of all our bliss,
our only hope of life to come,
our happiness in this;

Lord, grant us, while on earth we stay,
thy love to feel and know;
and, when from hence we pass away,
to us thy glory show.


Words: Bernard of Clairvaux, twelfth century;
trans. Edward Caswall, 1849

Music: Eatington

Meter: CM

Website compiled by Steve Benner, 2000-2003.