Ye Humble Souls Complain No More
Ye humble souls, complain no more
Let faith survey your future sort
How happy, how divinely blest,
The sacred words of truth attest.
When conscious grief laments sincere,
And pours the penitential tear;
Hope points to your dejected eyes
A bright reversion in the skies.
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:
A kingdom of immense delight,
Where health and peace and joy unite
Where undeclining pleasures rise,
And ev’ry wish hath full supplies:
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.
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.