Jesus, and shall it ever be,
A mortal man, ashamed of Thee?
Ashamed of Thee, whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?
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.
Ashamed of Jesus! just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon;
’Twas midnight with my soul, till He
Bright Morning Star, bade darkness flee.
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.
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.
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 ashamed of me!