Our Jesus loves his dear elect;

Our Jesus loves his dear elect;
With glory they shall all be decked
Before his Father's face.
Not one of them for whom he bled,
But shall with joy behold their Head,
In heaven their dwelling-place.

They are the travail of his soul;
His sweetest thoughts on them did roll
From all eternity.
And, as the jewels of his crown,
He'll give them honour, peace, renown,
And full felicity.

Their sins upon him all were laid,
And he the dreadful debt has paid,
(A debt no more to pay;)
Their Surety in their law-place stood,
Appeased stern Justice with his blood,
And bore their sins away.