Precious, peerless name of Jesus,
Sweetest sound on human tongue,
Who can utter half the praises,
Which to His dear name belong?
Who has ever found His equal?
Surest guide, unfailing Friend;
Of His love, so strong, so tender,
Who has ever reached the end?
Little ones proclaimed His praises
While His dwelling was with men;
Childish voices filled the Temple
With their loud hosannas then.
And how graciously He listened
To their simple, joyous strain,
Quieting those who, in their malice,
Would have hushed the sweet refrain.
O! how Jesus loved the children,
Loved to call them to His side:
Tired and weary though He might be,
Never once were they denied!
And His love to little children
Is for evermore the same;
Naught of changefulness He knoweth—
He who bears that great, sweet name.
Little children, seek to know Him,
Who has given His life for you:
Then in His unending praises
You will soon be joining too.
For the eyes that see His beauty,
And the hearts that know His love,
Cause the lips, with truth and gladness,
Ceaselessly in praise to move.
ML 05/12/1918