F. Whitfield
THERE is a name I love to hear,
I love to sing its worth;
It sounds like music in mine ear,
The sweetest name on earth.
O, how I love Jesus,
O, how I love Jesus,
O, how I love Jesus,
Because He first loved me!
2
It tells me of a Saviour’s love,
Who died to set me free;
It tells me of His precious blood,
The sinner’s perfect plea.
3
It tells me what my Father hath
In store for every day,
And though I tread a darksome path,
Yields sunshine all the way.
4
It tells of One whose loving heart
Can feel my deepest woe,
Who in each sorrow bears a part,
That none can bear below.
5
It tells me of a Father’s smile
Beaming upon His child;
It cheers me through this little while,
Through desert waste and wild.
6
Jesus, the name I love so well,
The name I love to hear;
No saint on earth its worth can tell,
No heart conceive how dear.
7
This name shall shed its fragrance still
Along this thorny road,
Shall sweetly smooth the rugged hill
That leads me up to God.
