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HOW sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!
And drives away his fear.
And calms the troubled breast;
And to the weary rest.
My Prophet, Priest, and King,
Accept the praise I bring.
And cold my warmest thought;
I'll praise Thee as I ought.
With every fleeting breath ;
may the music of thy Name
soul in death. 160
JESU, the very thought of Thee
With sweetness fills the breast;
And in thy presence rest.
Never from heart o'erflow'd
Than Jesus, Son of God,
Jesu, who dost our hearts below
With life and light inspire,
All that we can desire :
Jesu, our only joy be Thou,
As Thou our crown wilt be;
And through eternity.
THOU hidden Love of God, whose height,
Whose depth unfathom’d, no man knows;
Inly I sigh for thy repose :
Is there a thing beneath the sun,
That strives with Thee my heart to share ?
The Lord of every motion there :
Each moment draw from earth
I am thy Life, thy God, thy All!
JESUS, I my cross have taken,
All to leave, and follow Thee;
Thou from hence my all shalt be:
It has left my Saviour too;
Thou art not, like them, untrue.
Man may trouble and distress me,
'Twill but drive me to thy breast;
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest :
While thy love is left to me;
Were that joy unmix'd with Thee.
wing'd by prayer,
God's own hand to guide thee there :
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days;
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.
WHAT sinners value I resign ;
This life 's a dream, an empty show;
POOR, weak, and worthless though I am,
I have a rich, almighty Friend;
He freely loves and without end.
And by his power my foes controll'd;
And safely brought me to his fold.
And says that I shall shortly be
O! what a Friend is Christ to me!
But, ah ! my inmost spirit mourns,
And well mine eyes with tears may swim, To think of my perverse returns;
I've been a faithless friend to Him.
JESUS, immutably the same,
Thou true and living Vine;
Thy richest grace is mine.
Quicken'd by Thee and kept alive,
Now let me yield Thee fruit;
My vigour from thy root.
I can do nothing without Thee,
My strength is wholly thine;
If sever'd from the Vine.
Prun'd by the Father's tender care,
Whose mercies never cease,
Of righteousness and peace.
O CHRIST, thy servants' sure reward,
Our strength and righteousness,
Our going forth to bless.
From doing wrong, from taking harm,
From word and thought of ill,
Preserve thy people still.