There's not a name beneath the skies,

There's not a name beneath the skies,
Nor is there one in heaven above,
But that of Jesus, can suffice
The sinner's burden to remove.

Sweet name, when once its virtue's known,
How weak all other helps appear!
The sinner trusts to it alone,
And finds the grand specific there.

'Twas long before I knew this truth,
And learned to trust the Saviour's name;
In vanity I spent my youth;
The thought now fills my heart with shame.

But since I've known the life and power
With which his name is richly stored,
The world can keep my heart no more,
Nor can its joys content afford.

The things I once esteemed the most
I now account as worthless dross;
Thy name, dear Saviour, is my boast,
For which the world appears but loss.