My heart is easy, and my burden light;

I smile, though sad, when thou art in my sight:

The more my woes in secret I deplore,

I taste thy goodness, and I love thee more.

There, while a solemn stillness reigns around,

Faith, love, and hope within my soul abound;

And, while the world suppose me lost in care,

The joys of angels, unperceived, I share.

Thy creatures wrong thee, O thou sovereign good!

Thou art not loved, because not understood;

This grieves me most, that vain pursuits beguile

Ungrateful men, regardless of thy smile.

Frail beauty and false honour are adored;

While Thee they scorn, and trifle with thy Word;

Pass, unconcerned, a Saviour's sorrows by;

And hunt their ruin with a zeal to die.