I found this gem of a poem in Spurgeon's "The Treasury of David". It's under Ps 9:10. There's no title listed for it there. Perhaps he's quoting some old forgotten hymn or another poet. Regardless, this looks like a good candidate for memorizing.
"O hope of every contrite heart,
O joy of all the meek,
To those who fall how kind thou art,
How good to those who seek.
But what to those who find, ah, this
Nor tongue nor pen can show
The love of Jesus what it is,
None but his loved ones know."
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