mainheader

header
echo '
';

rp Search Options

Hymn/Song Information

POOR IN SPIRIT




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


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


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:


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


A kingdom which can ne’er decay,
While time sweeps earthly thrones away:
The state which pow‘r and truth sustain,
Unmov’d for ever must remain.


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.


Jesus, to thee I breathe my prayer!
Reveal, confirm my int’rest there:
Whate’er my humble lot below,
This, this my soul desires to know!


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


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


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


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:


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


A kingdom which can ne’er decay,
While time sweeps earthly thrones away:
The state which pow‘r and truth sustain,
Unmov’d for ever must remain.


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.


Jesus, to thee I breathe my prayer!
Reveal, confirm my int’rest there:
Whate’er my humble lot below,
This, this my soul desires to know!


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

marker 99
LYRICS
Meter: 8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
Writer(s):
    Trans/Adapted:
      Dates:
      Bible Refs: Mt 5:3;
      LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
      Hymn/Song Book Year Song #
      1815# 472
      MUSIC
      Name: WINCHESTER NEW
      Meter: 8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
      Writer(s):
        Dates: 1690,1847
        SCORE PREVIEW
        score
        ALTERNATIVE TUNES
        Name meter
        8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
        8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
        echo '
        ';
        If I have omitted copyright on any items, or if there are errors, please e-mail me with details and I will gladly update my records.

        This page has had 1198 visits
        eye-catcher
        Designed and managed by:
        nbp