A. J. Foxwell

MANY names are dear, but His is dearer;

How it grows more dear as life goes on,

Many friends are near, but He is nearer,

Always what we want and all our own.


Jesus, Jesus, let us ever say it

Softly to ourselves as some sweet spell;

Jesus, Jesus; troubled spirit, lay it

On thy heart and it will make thee well.


In the hour of gloom it shines before us,

Like that welcome star that gilds the morn;

Vanished hope and joy it will restore us,

Till their sudden rays our soul adorn.


Jesus! Jesus! in the home of glory,

Still that lovely name shall tune our lays,

Jesus! Jesus! all the wondrous story

Of His love shall fill eternal days.


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