Blest Are the Poor

Blest are the poor

Whose spir­its know their need;

God’s heav’n­ly king­dom

Will be theirs in­deed.

Blest

those who mourn;

God’s com­fort will be known.

Blest are the meek;

The world will be their own.

Blest

those who seek

God’s right­eous­ness each day;

They will be filled

And nev­er turned away.

Blest are the kind

For mer­cy will be giv’n.

Blest are the pure in heart;

They’ll see God in Heav’n.

Blest

men of peace;

They will God’s sons be named.

Blest

those who suf­fer

Slander and much shame.

Blest

faith­ful ones

Enduring for your Lord.

Rejoice

be glad

For great is your re­ward.

I see my need

And humb­ly seek Your face.

Show me Your mer­cy;

All my cares erase.

Keep my heart pure;

I long for right­eous­ness.

I know that as

Your child I’m ful­ly blest.