How sweet the name of Je­sus sounds
In a be­liev­er’s ear!
It soothes his sor­rows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

It makes the wound­ed spir­it whole,
And calms the trou­bled breast;
’Tis man­na to the hun­gry soul,
And to the wea­ry rest.

Dear name! the rock on which I build,
My shield and hid­ing place,
My ne­ver fail­ing trea­su­ry filled
With bound­less stores of grace!

By Thee my pray­ers ac­cept­ance gain,
Although with sin de­filed;
Satan ac­cus­es me in vain,
And I am owned a child.

Jesus! my shep­herd, hus­band, friend,
O pro­phet, priest and king,
My Lord, my life, my way, my end,
Accept the praise I bring.

Weak is the ef­fort of my heart,
And cold my warm­est thought;
But when I see Thee as Thou art,
I’ll praise Thee as I ought.

Till then I would Thy love pro­claim
With ev­ery fleet­ing breath,
And may the mu­sic of Thy name
Refresh my soul in death!