Old-Line Primitive Baptist Hymn and Tune Book

Hymn #791: Love Is The Sweetest Bud That Blows

Hymn #790 Hymn #792


Image of tune Closer Walk With God (may not be posted yet)

791 (C.M.) Joseph Swain

Love is the sweetest bud that blows,

Its beauty never dies;

On earth among the saints it grows,

And ripens in the skies.

Pure, glowing red, and spotless white,

Its perfect colors are;

In Jesus all its sweets unite

And look divinely fair.

The finest flow'r that ever blowed

Opened on Calv'ry's tree

When Jesus' blood in rivers flowed

For love of worthless me.

Its deepest hue, its richest smell,

No mortal sense can bear;

Nor can the tongue of angels tell

How bright the colors are.

Earth could not hold so rich a flow'r,

Nor half its beauties show;

Nor could the world and Satan's pow'r

Confine its sweets below.

On heaven's bank supremely fair

This flow'r of wonder blooms —

Transplanted to its native air —

And all the shore perfumes;

But not to heaven's shore confined;

The seeds from which it grows,

Take root within the human mind,

And scent the church below.

And soon on yonder banks above

Shall ev'ry blossom here

Appear a full ripe flow'r of love,

Like Him transplanted there.

Hymn #790 Hymn #792