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L. M. 6 lines.
My soul trusteth in thee.
Psalm 57:1.
Do not I trust in thee, O Lord?
Do I not rest in thee alone?
Is not the comfort of thy word
The sweetest cordial I have known?
When vexed with care, bowed down with grief,
Where else could I obtain relief?
2 And is it not my chief desire
To feel as if a stranger here?
Do not my hopes and thoughts aspire
Beyond this transitory sphere?
And art thou not, while here I roam,
My hope, my hiding-place, my home?
3 O, yes! these things are ever true;
Thy promise is for ever sure;
And all I now am passing through,
And all that I may still endure,
Will but endear thy word to me,
And draw me nearer, Lord, to thee.
4 And now on thee I cast my soul,
Come life or death, come ease or pain;
Thy presence can each fear control,
Thy grace can to the end sustain:
Those whom thou lovest, heavenly Friend,
Thou lovest even to the end!