2 Whate'er pursuits my time employ, One thought shall fill my soul with joy; That silent, secret thought shall be, That all my hopes are fixed on thee, On thee, my God, on thee.

3 Thy glorious eye pervadeth space; Thy presence, Lord, fills every place; And, wheresoe'er my lot may be, Still shall my spirit cleave to thee, To thee, my God, to thee.

The Christian Hymn Book — Part 214

4 Renouncing every worldly thing, And safe beneath thy sheltering wing, My sweetest thought henceforth shall be, That all I want I find in thee, In thee, my God, in thee.

The Christian Hymn Book — Part 214

766 L. M. 6 lines. My soul trusteth in thee. Psalm 57:1.

The Christian Hymn Book — Part 214

Do not I trust in thee, O Lord? Do I not rest in thee alone? Is not the comfort of thy word The sweetest cordial I have known? When vexed with care, bowed down with grief, Where else could I obtain relief?

2 And is it not my chief desire To feel as if a stranger here? Do not my hopes and thoughts aspire Beyond this transitory sphere? And art thou not, while here I roam, My hope, my hiding-place, my home?

3 O, yes! these things are ever true; Thy promise is for ever sure; And all I now am passing through, And all that I may still endure, Will but endear thy word to me, And draw me nearer, Lord, to thee.

4 And now on thee I cast my soul, Come life or death, come ease or pain; Thy presence can each fear control, Thy grace can to the end sustain: Those whom thou lovest, heavenly Friend, Thou lovest even to the end!

Whither, O whither should I fly, But to my loving Father's breast! Secure within thine arms to lie, And safe beneath thy wings to rest!

2 In all my ways thy hand I own, Thy ruling providence I see: Assist me still my course to run, And still direct my paths to thee.

3 I have no skill the snare to shun; But thou, O God, my wisdom art; I ever into ruin run; But thou art greater than my heart.

4 Foolish, and impotent, and blind, Lead me a way I have not known; Bring me where I my heaven may find, The heaven of loving thee alone.

"He leadeth me!" O! blesséd thought, O! words with heavenly comfort fraught, Whate'er I do, whate'er I be, Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me! He leadeth me! he leadeth me! By his own hand he leadeth me.

2 Sometimes 'midst scenes of deepest gloom, Sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom; By waters still, o'er troubled sea-- Still 'tis his hand that leadeth me! He leadeth me! he leadeth me! By his own hand he leadeth me.