1 Ye humble souls, complain no more
Let faith survey your future sort
How happy, how divinely blest,
The sacred words of truth attest.
2 When conscious grief laments sincere,
And pours the penitential tear;
Hope points to your dejected eyes
A bright reversion in the skies.
3 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:
4 A kingdom of immense delight,
Where health and peace and joy unite
Where undeclining pleasures rise,
And ev'ry wish hath full supplies:
5 A kingdom which can ne'er decay,
Though time sweep earthly thrones away.
The state, which pow'r and truth sustain,
Unmov'd for ever must remain.
6 Great God! to thee we breathe our pray'r:
If thou confirm our int'rest there,
Enroll'd among thy happy poor,
Our largest wishes ask no more.