Just as I am — Thou wilt receive

From human eyes 'tis better to conceal Much that I suffer, much I hourly feel; But oh, this thought can tranquillise and heal, All, all is known to Thee.

Blest is my lot, whate'er befall: What can disturb me, who appall, While, as my strength, my rock, my all, Saviour! I cling to Thee?

My God! is any hour so sweet, From blush of morn to evening-star, As that which calls me to Thy feet,— The hour of prayer?

Lord! till I reach yon blissful shore, No privilege so dear shall be, As thus my inmost soul to pour In prayer to Thee.

Renew my will from day to day! Blend it with Thine! and take away All that now makes it hard to say, "Thy will be done!"

Nay, all by Thee is ordered, chosen, planned, Each drop that fills my daily cup, Thy hand Prescribes for ills none else can understand, All, all is known to Thee.