Blest are the humble souls that see Their emptiness and poverty; Treasures of grace to them are giv’n, And crowns of joy laid up in Heav’n. Blest are the men of broken heart, Who mourn for sin with inward smart; The blood of Christ divinely flows, A healing balm for all their woes. Blest are the meek, who stand afar From rage and passion, noise and war; God will secure their happy state, And plead their cause against the great. Blest are the souls that thirst for grace Hunger and long for righteousness; They shall be well supplied, and fed With living streams and living bread. Blest are the men whose bowels move And melt with sympathy and love; From Christ the Lord they shall obtain Like sympathy and love again. Blest are the pure, whose hearts are clean From the defiling powers of sin; With endless pleasure they shall see A God of spotless purity. Blest are the men of peaceful life, Who quench the coals of growing strife; They shall be called the heirs of bliss, The sons of God, the God of peace. Blest are the suff’rers who partake Of pain and shame for Jesus’ sake; Their souls shall triumph in the Lord; Glory and joy are their reward. |