"The Lord JEHOVAH is my strength and my song" (Isaiah 12:2).

The precious name of Jesus is the theme of the sweetest hymns, the richest poems, and the choicest music. His blessed name cannot be robbed of its majestic music which has fallen in sweet tones upon the believer's ear for many centuries since His birth.

* * * * *

O that Thy name may be sounded
   Afar over earth and sea,
Till the dead awaken and praise Thee,
   And the dumb lips sing to Thee!
Sound forth as a song of triumph,
   Wherever man's foot has trod,
The despised, the derided message,
   The "foolishness of God."
Jesus, dishonored and dying,
   A felon on either side—
Jesus, the song of the drunkards,
   Jesus the crucified!

Name of God's tender comfort,
   Name of His glorious power,
Name that is song and sweetness,
   The strong everlasting tower.
Jesus the Lamb accepted,
   Jesus the priest on His throne,
Jesus the king who is coming—
   Jesus, Thy name alone!

—From Hymns of Ter Steegan

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Jesus how much Thy name unfolds
   To every opened ear;
The pardoned sinner's memory holds
   None other half so dear.

Thy name encircles every grace
   That God as man could show;
There only could He fully trace
   A life divine below.

The mention of Thy name shall bow
   Our hearts to worship Thee;
The chiefest of ten thousand Thou,
   Whose love has set us free. —Mary Bowley

* * * * *   

Jesus! life-giving sound,
   The joy of earth and heaven;
No other help is found,
   No other name is given,
In which the sons of men can boast,
But He who seeks and saves the lost.

Jesus! all praise above:
   We sing Thy blessed name,
We sing Thy dying love,
   Thy rising power proclaim:
But soon, to give Thee worthy praise,
Both heaven and earth their songs shall raise.

—C. Wesley

* * * * *   

There is a name we love to hear,
   We love to sing its worth;
It sounds like music in our ear,
   The sweetest name on earth.

It tells us of a Saviour's love,
   Who died to set us free;
It tells us of His precious blood,
   The sinner's perfect plea.

Jesus! the name we love so well,
   The name we love to hear!
No saint on earth its worth can tell,
   No heart conceive how dear.

This name shall shed its fragrance still,
   Along this thorny road,
Shall sweetly smooth the rugged hill
   That leads us up to God.

And there the whole triumphant throng,
   Of blood-bought saints on high,
Shall sing the new eternal song
   With Jesus ever nigh.

—F. Whitfield