Happy Mourners. Matt. 5. 4; John. 16. 22

J. Hart

Christ is the Friend of sinners;
Be that forgotten never;
A wounded soul, and not a whole,
Becomes a true believer;
To see sin smarts but slightly;
To own, with lip confession,
Is easier still; but O to feel
Cuts deep beyond expression.

[Trust not to joyous fancies,
Light hearts, or smooth behaviour;
Sinners can say, and none but they,
“How precious is the Saviour!”
Then hail, ye happy mourners;
How blest your state to come is!
Ye soon will meet with comfort sweet;
It is the Lord’s own promise.]

The contrite heart and broken
God will not give to ruin;
This sacrifice he’ll not despise,
For ’tis his Spirit’s doing.
Then hail, ye happy mourners,
Who pass through tribulation;
Sin’s filth and guilt, perceived and felt,
Make known God’s great salvation.

[Dry doctrine cannot save us,
Blind zeal, or false devotion;
The feeblest prayer, if faith be there,
Exceeds all empty notion.
Then hail, ye happy mourners,
Ye will at last be winners;
By Jesus’ blood, the righteous God
Now reconciles poor sinners.]