O how hap­py are they
Who the Sav­ior ob­ey,
And have laid up their trea­sure above!
Tongue can­not ex­press
The sweet com­fort and peace
Of a soul in its ear­li­est love.

That com­fort was mine,
When the fa­vor di­vine
I first found in the blood of the Lamb;
When my heart it be­lieved,
What a joy it re­ceived,
What a 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 may see!
He hath loved me, I cried,
He hath suf­fered, and died,
To re­deem such a rebel as me.

On the wings of His love,
I was car­ried above
All sin, and temp­ta­tion, and pain;
I could not be­lieve,
That I ev­er should grieve,
That I ev­er should suf­fer again.

I rode on the sky,
Freely jus­ti­fied I!
Nor en­vied Eli­jah his seat;
My soul mount­ed high­er,
In a cha­ri­ot of fire,
And the moon it was un­der my feet.

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