Joy Is a Fruit That Will Not Grow

Joy is a fruit that will not grow

In na­ture’s bar­ren soil;

All we can boast

till Christ we know

Is van­ity and toil.

But where the Lord has plant­ed grace;

And made His glo­ries known;

There fruits of heav­en­ly joy and peace

Are found

and there alone.

A bleed­ing Sav­ior seen by faith

A sense of par­don­ing love;

A hope that tri­umphs ov­er death

Give joys like those ab­ove.

To take a glimpse with­in the veil

To know that God is mine;

Are springs of joy that nev­er fail

Unspeakably di­vine!

These are the joys which sa­tis­fy

And sanc­ti­fy the mind;

Which make the spi­rit mount on high

And leave the world be­hind.

No more

be­liev­ers

mourn your lot

But if you are the Lord’s;

Resign to them that know Him not

Such joys as earth af­fords.