1 BLESSED are the pure in heart,
They have learned the angel-art,
While on earth in heaven to be,
God, by sense unseen, to see.
Cleansed from sin’s offensive stain,
Fellowship with him they gain;
Nearness, likeness to their Lord,
Their exceeding great reward.
2 Worshipping in spirit now,
In his inner court they bow,
Bow before the brightening vail,
God’s own radiance through it hail.
Serious, simple of intent,
Teachably intelligent,
Rapt, they search the written word,
Till his very voice is heard.
3 In creation him they own,
Meet him in its haunts, alone;
Most amidst its Sabbath calm,
Morning light and evening balm.
Him they still through busier life,
Trust in pain and care and strife;
These like clouds o’er noontide blaze,
Temper, not conceal his rays.
4 Hallowed thus their every breath,
Dying they shall not “see death;”
With the Lord in Paradise,
Till, like his, their bodies rise.
Nearer than the seraphim
In their flesh shall saints see him,
With the Father, in the Son,
Through the Spirit, ever one!
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