Henry Francis Lyte

Let good or ill befall, It must be good for me,— Secure of having Thee in all, Of having all in Thee.

Teach me. Lord, my true condition; Bring me childlike to Thy knee; Stripped of every low ambition, Willing to be led by Thee.

I need Thy presence every passing hour; What, but Thy grace, can foil the tempter's power? Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me!

A scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand, I march on in haste through an enemy's land; The road may be rough, but it cannot be long; And I'll smooth it with hope, and I'll cheer it with song.

Haste thee on from grace to glory, Armed by faith and winged by prayer, Heaven's eternal day's before thee; God's own hand shall guide thee there.