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133 Juniata

Jesus, I love Thy charming name,
'Tis music to my ear;
Fain would I sound it out so loud
That heav'n and earth might hear.

Yes, Thou art precious to my soul,
My transport and my trust:
Jewels, to Thee, are gaudy toys,
And gold is sordid dust.

All my capacious pow'rs can wish
In Thee doth richly meet;
Nor to my eyes is light so dear,
Nor friendship half so sweet.

Thy grace still dwells upon my heart
And shed its fragrance there,
The noblest balm of all its wounds,
The cordial of its care.

I'll speak the honors of Thy name
With my last lab'ring breath,
And, dying clasp Thee in my arms
The antidote of death.

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