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tr., John Brownlie




My hope is firmly set

On Him Whose truth abides;

The lights of earth may fade and die,

The hopes of earth despairing fly,—

No fear my heart betides.


My love its ardour finds

In Him Whose love is strong,

Who bought me with a price untold,

More than of silver or of gold,

And fills my heart with song.


My peace its calm attains

In Him Whose power defends;

My foes may sound a loud alarm,

I trust securely in the arm

He for my succour lends.


My joy its gladness sings

In notes His voice awakes,—

A joy no effort can attain,

That thrills alike in loss and gain,

And when the world forsakes.


Thou Christ art all I need,

Of all my bliss the spring;

More fulness in Thy grace is found,

Than when the corn and wine abound,

And all the world can bring.

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