It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calm the troubled breast;
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
and to the weary rest.

Dear name ! The rock on which I build,
My shield and hiding-place,
My never-failing treasury filled
With boundless stores of grace.

Jesus! My Shepherd, Brother, Friend.
My Prophet, Priest and King.
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End.
Accept the praise I bring.

Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought.
But when I see Thee as Thou art,
I'll praise Thee as I ought.

Till then I would Thy love proclaim
With every fleeting breath:
And may the music of Thy Name
Refresh my soul in death!