On the name of JESUS.

If love, if joy, if gratitude can speak,
If sacred rapture can its silence break;
Yet once more let me tune my harp for thee,
Thou source of the divine benignity:
On this side heav'n yet once more let me sing,
E'er to thy praise I set th' immortal string;
In mortal strains permit me to rehearse
Thy name, and with it grace my humble verse.

Ye winds, to heav'n the sacred accents bear,
For heav'n delights the glorious sound to hear.
Ye angels, take it on your golden lyres,
Voices like yours the mighty word requires.
Seraph and cherub, speak, is there a sound
More sweet than this in all your language found?
Is there within the bounds of paradise,
A note of harmony compar'd to this?

Ye heav'nly pow'rs, your gentle warmth infuse,
And tell me what sweet eloquence you use;
I burn in sacred flames like yours, and fain
Would talk and sing in your immortal strain;
My voice would mix with the melodious spheres,
And please, with soft attraction, angels ears.

Ye winds, to heav'n the glorious accents bear,
For heav'n delights the charming name to hear:
I'll breath it with the morning's fragrant air,
Its pleasing echoes shall the ev'ning chear.
The fields, the lawns, and ev'ry shady grove,
The sweet retirements, and delights of love,
Shall learn from me the dear, inspiring name,
And all be witness to my holy flame.