MY SOUL, HOPE THOU IN GOD.
My soul, O Lord, on thee relies,
Though all is dark and drear;
To thee my fainting spirit flies,
And to thy throne devoutly cries,
Nor will I yield to fear. My heart, my bleeding heart, shall be
Submissive to thy will;
Thy mercy long has followed me,
And though thy frowning face I see,
I'll trust that mercy still. Though sorrow all my hours attend,
Or when I wake or sleep,
I know on whom my hopes depend,
And upward shall my thoughts ascend,—
I'll praise thee while I weep. In all my griefs while here I stay,
O'er life's brief stage to roam,
Thou wilt defend by night and day,
And safe conduct me all the way
To my eternal home. My home! no sorrow enters there;
No hearts with grief are riven—
Then all life's ills I'll gladly bear,
Since thus my Father would prepare
My chastened soul for heaven.