CCXXXIV. Happy poverty; or, the poor in spirit blessed

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

2 When conscious grief laments sincere,
And pours the penitential tear;
Hope points to your dejected eyes,
The bright reversion in the skies.

3 In vain the sons of wealth and pride
Despise your lot, your hopes deride:
In vain they boast their little stores,
Trifles are theirs, a kingdom yours:—

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

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

6 There shall your eyes with rapture view
The glorious friend that dy'd for you;
That dy'd to ransom, dy'd to raise
To crowns of joy, and songs of praise.

7 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!

8 O let me hear that voice divine
Pronounce the glorious blessing mine!
Enroll'd among thy happy poor,
My largest wishes ask no more.

Text Information
First Line: Ye humble souls, complain no more
Title: Happy poverty; or, the poor in spirit blessed
Author: Steele
Meter: L. M.
Language: English
Publication Date: 1792
Scripture:
Topic: The Graces of the Holy Spirit: Humility; Happiness: Of the poor in spirit; Humility: Prayed for (2 more...)
Tune Information
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