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,
      Teachably intelligent,
      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!