Jesus, there is no dearer name than thine
Which Time has blazoned on his mighty scroll;
No wreaths nor garlands ever did entwine
So fair a temple of so vast a soul.
There every virtue set his triumph-seal;
Wisdom, conjoined with strength and radiant grace,
In a sweet copy Heaven to reveal,
And stamp perfection on a mortal face...
Jesus shall reign where’er the sun
Does his successive journeys run,—
His kingdom spread from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.
From north to south the princes meet
To pay their homage at His feet,
While western empires own their Lord,
And savage tribes attend His word.
To Him shall endless prayer be made...
Just so — Jesus — raps —
He — doesn't weary —
Last — at the Knocker —
And first — at the Bell.
Then — on divinest tiptoe — standing —
Might He but spy the lady's soul —
When He — retires —
Chilled — or weary —
It will be ample time for — me —
Patient — upon the steps...
