Happy the Man That Finds the Grace

Happy the man that finds the grace

The bless­ing of God’s chos­en race

The wis­dom com­ing from ab­ove

The faith that sweet­ly works by love.

Happy be­yond des­cript­ion he

Who knows: The Sav­ior died for me;

The gift un­speak­able ob­tains

And heav­en­ly un­der­stand­ing gains.

Wisdom di­vine! Who tells the price

Of wis­dom’s cost­ly mer­chan­dise;

Wisdom to sil­ver we pre­fer

And gold is dross com­pared to her.

Her hands are filled with length of days

True rich­es

and im­mor­tal praise

Riches of Christ

on all be­stowed

And hon­or that des­cends from God.

To pur­est joys she all in­vites

Chaste

ho­ly

spir­it­ual de­lights;

Her ways are ways of plea­sant­ness

And all her flow­ery paths are peace.

Happy the man who wis­dom gains

Thrice hap­py who his guest re­tains!

He owns

and shall for ev­er own

Wisdom

and Christ

and Heav­en are one.