Blessed Are the Poor in Spirit

Verse 1

Ye humble souls, complain no more; Let faith survey your future store. How happy, how divinely blest, The sacred words of truth attest.

Verse 2

In vain the sons of wealth and pride Despise your lot, your hope deride; In vain they boast their little stores; Trifles are theirs, a kingdom yours.

Verse 3

A kingdom of immense delight, Where health, and peace, and joy unite; Where undeclining pleasures rise, And every wish has full supplies.

Verse 4

A kingdom which can ne’er decay, While time sweeps earthly thrones away; The state which power and truth sustain, Unmoved for ever must remain.

Verse 5

There shall your eyes with rapture view The glorious Friend that died for you, That died to ransom, died to raise To crowns of joy and songs of praise.

Verse 6

Jesus! to thee I breathe my prayer; Reveal, confirm my interest there; Whate’er my humble lot below, This, this my soul desires to know.