By A Collection of Hymns
7s. Matthew v, 8.
1 BLESSED are the pure in heart,
They have learned the angel-art,
While on earth in heaven to be,
God, by sense unseen, to see.
2 Cleansed from sin's offensive stain,
Fellowship with him they gain;
Nearness, likeness to their Lord,
Their exceeding great reward.
3 Worshipping in spirit now,
In his inner court they bow,
Bow before the brightening vail,
God's own radiance through it hail.
4 Serious, simple of intent,
Rapt, they search the written word,
Till his very voice is heard.
5 In creation him they own,
Meet him in its haunts, alone;
Most amidst its Sabbath calm,
Morning light and evening balm.
6 Him they still through busier life,
Trust in pain and care and strife;
These like clouds o'er noontide blaze,
Temper, not conceal his rays.
7 Hallowed thus their every breath,
Dying they shall not "see death;"
With the Lord in Paradise,
Till, like his, their bodies rise.
8 Nearer than the seraphim
In their flesh shall saints see him,
With the Father, in the Son,
Through the Spirit, ever one!