The happy man is born of God

The happy man is born of God; A penitent indeed: His soul is wash'd in Jesus' blood, And follows him with speed.

His mind is taught by truth divine, His will is rul'd thereby; And his affections therewith join In sweetest harmony.

Christ's yoke upon his neck he wears; He yields his all to God: This empty world, with all its cares, Under his feet are trod.

His father's precepts he obeys, Still with a ready mind; And unto all his sov'reign ways Lies chearfully resign'd.

His morning and his evening cries, Come up before the throne, Persum'd with Jesus' sacrifice, In whom he trusts alone.

The great concern upon his mind Is how to honour God; And for to benefit mankind, Upon this earthly clod.

This is the end for which he lives; All other things look vain: This is the prize for which he strives, While life or breath remain.

Humility his soul doth cloath, Contentment fills his mind; And he within his heart doth loath All sin of every kind.

His tho'ts do often mount the sky, And view the world above: He sees the glorious bridegroom nigh, Which fires his heart with love.

God is his portion and his guide Thro' this dark wilderness; And when this flesh is laid aside, His soul has endless rest.

And when the judge shall from his throne Pass sentence upon all, He'll rise to dwell with th' HOLY ONE, Free from all sin and thrall.

O Lord of hosts, unto my soul Much of this pleasure grant! This is the all; this is the whole; What else then can I want!