Come speak to me of Jesus,
I love that precious name,
Who built a throne of power
Upon a cross of shame.
Unveil to me the beauty
That glorifies his face—
The fullness of the Father—
The image of his grace.
My soul would run to meet Him;
Restrain me not with creeds;
For Christ, the hope of glory,
Is what my spirit needs.
I need the grand attraction,
That centres ’round the cross,
To change the gilded things of earth,
To emptiness and dross.
My feet are prone to wander,
My eyes to turn aside,
And yet I fain would linger,
With Christ the crucified.
I want a faith that’s able
To stand each storm and shock—
A faith forever rooted,
In Christ the living Rock.