Blest Are The Humble Souls That See

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.