To build that brittle name a whisper can destroy!
There is a Book where nought our name can spot,
If we ourselves refuse to fix the blot;
’Tis kept by One that sets alike at nought
The tale with malice or with flatt’ry fraught,—
He reads the heart, and sees the whisper in the thought.
C. C. Colton.
Jesus, the spring of joys divine,
Whence all our hopes and comforts flow:
Jesus, no other name but Thine