Sweeter sounds than mu­sic knows
Charm me, in Em­ma­nu­el’s name;
All her hopes my spir­it owes
To His birth, and cross, and shame.

When He came the an­gels sung
Glory be to God on high,
Lord, un­loose my stam­mer­ing tongue,
Who should loud­er sing than I?

Did the Lord a man be­come
That He might the law ful­fill,
Bleed and suf­fer in my room,
And canst thou, my tongue, be still?

No, I must my prais­es bring,
Though they worth­less are, and weak;
For should I re­fuse to sing
Sure the ve­ry stones would speak.

O my Sav­ior, shield, and sun,
Shepherd, bro­ther, hus­band, friend,
Every pre­cious name in one;
I will love Thee with­out end.