The Sweetest Song

No sweet­er song is heard on earth

Than song that tells of Je­sus’ birth

The man­ger and the rug­ged tree

On which He died for you and me.

The Cru­ci­fied! the Cru­cified!

His crown of thorns

His bleed­ing side

His pierc­èd hands

His wound­ed feet

We’ll ev­er sing in mea­sures sweet.

As near His throne

with fold­ed wing

The an­gels sweep their harps and sing

Their choic­est theme is what God’s Son

For guil­ty you and me hath done.

There are no sym­pho­nies that thrill

That with the pur­est plea­sure fill

Our list­en­ing souls like the low strain

Breathed soft­ly of the Lamb once slain.

In this sad world of sin and grief

Of our few joys it is the chief

To sing of Him whose dy­ing love

Secured for us a home ab­ove.

Till life shall end

we’ll sing this song

Then when we greet the an­gel throng

The first strain from our harps shall be

That Je­sus died for you and me.