How hap­py are they
Who the Sav­ior obey,
And have laid up their trea­sure above!
Tongue can ne­ver ex­press
The sweet com­fort and peace
Of a soul in its ear­li­est love.

That sweet com­fort was mine,
When the Fa­ther di­vine
I first found in the blood of the Lamb;
When my heart first be­lieved,
What a joy I re­ceived,
What hea­ven in Je­sus’ name!

’Twas a hea­ven below
My Re­deem­er to know,
And the an­gels could do no­thing more,
Than to fall at His feet,
And the sto­ry re­peat,
And the Lov­er of sin­ners adore.

Jesus all the day long
Was my joy and my song:
O that all His sal­va­tion might see!
He hath loved me, I cried,
He hath suf­fered and died,
To re­deem a poor re­bel like me.

O the rap­tur­ous height
Of that ho­ly de­light
Which I felt in the life giv­ing blood!
By my Sav­ior pos­sessed,
I was per­fect blest,
As if filled with the full­ness of God.