O happy they who know the Lord,

With whom he deigns to dwell!

He feeds and cheers them by his word,

His arm supports them well.

To them, in each distressing hour,

His throne of grace is near;

And when they plead his love and pow’r,

He stands engaged to hear.

He helped his saints in ancient days

Who trusted in his name;

And we can witness, to his praise,

His love is still the same.

Wand’ring in sin, our souls he found,

And bid us seek his face;

Gave us to hear the gospel sound,

And taste the gospel grace.

Oft in his house his glory shines

Before our wond’ring eyes;

We wish not, then, for golden mines,

Or ought beneath the skies.

His presence sweetens all our cares,

And makes our burdens light;

A word from him dispels our fears,

And gilds the gloom of night.

Lord, we expect to suffer here,

Nor would we dare repine;

But give us, still, to find thee near;

And own us, still, for thine.

Let us enjoy, and highly prize

These tokens of thy love;

Till thou shalt bid our spirits rise,

To worship thee above.