Hear my grief! believe I cannot

That for me there is a hope,

Who, between two weak opinions

Halting, in the darkness grope:

Fearing much and trusting little,

Shall I stand at last or fall?

Fearing evil hosts of darkness,

Fearing self the most of all!

Sometimes in the gloomy valley,

Sometimes on the sunny height;

Sometimes drinking Marah's waters,

Sometimes wine of pure delight:

Sometimes sighs and bitter meanings,

Sometimes joy on every string;

Sometimes low beneath the billows,

Sometimes sunward on my wing.

I am trusting, come what happen,

Trusting in the word of grace--

That the riven Rock of Ages

Is my perfect hiding-place:

In the cleft there is a Refuge,

In the cleft is sweetest calm;

In the cleft alone is safety--

Wounds of Christ, unblemished Lamb.