1. Jesus! and shall it ever be,
A mortal man asham’d of Thee!
Asham’d of Thee, Whom angels praise;
Whose glories shine through endless days
2. Asham’d of Jesus! did not He
Give His own life to ransom me;
And shed the beams of life divine,
O’er this benighted soul of mine?
3. Asham’d of Jesus! that dear Friend,
On Whom my hopes of heav’n depend!
No! when I blush—be this my shame,
That I no more revere His name.
4. Asham’d of Jesus! yes, I may,
When I’ve no guilt to wash away,
No tear to wipe, no good to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.
5.’Till then—nor is my boasting vain—
’Till then I boast a Saviour slain!
And O may this my glory be,
That Christ is not asham’d of me!