A NAME belongs to Christ alone,
Which demons in their terror own;
A Name to saints most dear.
Were it not His, His work were vain,
Sin would o’er all the victory gain,
And hope would disappear.
Ten letters this blest Name will spell,
May you both know and love it well,
And its full virtue prove;
How it gave savor sweet to God,
When weighted with sin’s dreadful load,
Without one smile of love.
More precious far than gold it is.
God’s Throne where all is love and bliss.
The gift of God to sinners given.
Hope for departing saints in heaven.
He seven sweet gifts from Christ receives.
What most of all His spirit grieves.
What should our converse ever be.
What in Christ’s path we always see.
What God will all things shortly make.
When will God’s saints those joys partake.
UNCLE R.