MY Saviour, I can think of Thee,
And rest upon Thy name;
Through changing scenes Thou leadest me―
But Thou art still the same.
When I am feebler than a child―
Too-faint to lift a cry―
Thy strength is with me, all the while
I know that Thou art nigh.
O precious Lord! I hear Thy voice,
In accents soft and sweet,
When wearied is my aching head,
And worn my willing feet.
Thou giv’st to Thy beloved in sleep;
In safety I abide;
My hand in Thine Thou still’ dost keep,
Thou’rt watching by my side.
Lord Jesus, it is. Sweet to pause
And be alone with Thee;
To prove, shut out from all, beside,
How Thou art all to me.
‘Tis joy to know Thou wilt complete
The work Thou hast begun;
And oh, how comforting and sweet,
The rest when work is done!