This one comes from August Toplady (1740-1778):
1. Compar’d with Christ, in all beside,
No comeliness I see;
The one thing needful, dearest Lord,
Is to be one with thee.
2. The sense of thy expiring love
Into my soul convey;
Thyself bestow! for thee alone,
My all in all I pray.
3. Less than thyself will not suffice
My comfort to restore;
More than thyself I cannot crave,
Nor canst thou give me more.
4. Lov’d of my God, for him again,
With love intense I burn;
Chosen of thee, e’er time began,
I choose thee in return.
5. Whate’er consists not with thy will,
O teach me to resign;
I’m rich to all th’intents of bliss,
Since thou, O God, art mine!