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,
These are the joys which satisfyJohn Newton
And sanctify the mind;
Which make the spirit mount on high,
And leave the world behind.
Copied from my grandmother’s hymnal, Hymn Book, Methodist Episcopal Church, South: Nashville, TN, 1901, Hymn #392.
Note: The hymns in this hymnal are not titled. So when I do not know the hymn, I make up a title or simply use the first line.
Photo taken in Milton, FL, 2018