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

2 Yes, thou art precious to my soul,
My transport and my trust;
Jewels, to thee, are gaudy toys,
And gold is sordid dust.

3 All my capacious pow'rs can wish,
In thee, doth richly meet;
Not to my eyes is light so dear,
Nor friendship half so sweet.

4 Thy grace shall dwell upon heart,
And shed its fragrance there;
The noblest balm of all its wounds,
The cordial of its care.

5 I'll speak the honours of thy name,
With my last labouring breath;
And dying, clasp thee in my arms,
The antidote of death.