How Happy Are They

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.