Jesus, the glorious Head of grace,

Jesus, the glorious Head of grace,
Knows every saint's peculiar case;
What sorrows by their souls are borne,
And how for sin they daily mourn.

He knows how deep their groanings are,
And what their secret sighs declare;
And, for their comfort, has expressed
That all such mourning souls are blessed.

They're blessed on earth, for 'tis by grace
They see and know their mournful case;
Blest mourners! they shall shortly rise
To endless comfort in the skies.

There all their mourning days shall cease,
And they be filled with joy and peace;
Comforts eternal they shall prove,
And dwell for ever in his love.

Dear Lord, may I a mourner be,
Over my sins and after thee;
And when my mourning days are o'er,
Enjoy thy comforts evermore.