Lord! till I reach yon blissful shore

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.

Just as I am — Thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, Because Thy promise I believe— O Lamb of God, I come!

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?

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!"

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?

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.