Convert. P. M.
Joy in Christ.

Oh, how happy are they
Who their Savior obey,
And have laid up their treasures above;
Tongue cannot express
The sweet comfort and peace
Of a soul in its earliest love.

2 That sweet comfort was mine,
When the favor divine
I first found in the blood of the Lamb;
When my heart it believed,
What a joy I received,
What a heaven in Jesus' name.

3 'Twas a heaven below
My Redeemer to know,
And the angels could do nothing more
Than to fall at his feet,
And the story repeat,
And the Lover of sinners adore.

4 Jesus, all the day long,
Was my joy and my song;
O that all his salvation might see!
He hath loved me, I cried,
He hath suffered and died
To redeem such a rebel as me.

5 On the wings of his love
I was carried above
All sin and temptation and pain,
And I could not believe
That I ever should grieve --
That I ever should suffer again.

6 I then rode on the sky,
Freely justified I,
Nor did envy Elijah his seat;
My soul mounted higher,
In a chariot of tire,
And the moon it was under my feet.

7 O the rapturous height
Of that holy delight
Which I felt in the life-giving blood,
Of my Savior possessed,
I was perfectly blest,
As if filled with the fullness of God.

8 Never more will I stray
From my Savior away,
But I'll follow the Lamb till I die;
I will take up my cross,
And count all things but loss,
Till I meet with my Lord in the sky.

Charles Wesley.

247 is my name written
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