Jesus, and shall it ever be,

A mortal man ashamed of thee:

Ashamed of thee, whom angels praise,

Whose glory shines through endless days.

2 Ashamed of Jesus! Sooner far

Let evening blush to own a star!

He sheds the beams of light divine

O’er this benighted soul of mine.

3 Ashamed of Jesus! Just as soon

Let morning be ashamed of noon;

’Tis midnight with my soul, till he,

Bright Morning Star, bid darkness flee.

4 Ashamed of Jesus! that dear friend,

On whom my hopes of heaven depend!

No! when I blush, be this my shame,

That I no more revere his name.

5 Ashamed 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.

6 Till then—nor is my boasting vain—

Till then I’ll boast a Saviour slain!

And O! may this my glory be,

That Christ is not ashamed of me!

7 His institutions would I prize,

Take up my cross, the shame despise—

Dare to defend his noble cause,

And yield obedience to his laws.