THE SURE REFUGE.
Jesus, my Saviour, look on me!
For I am weary and oppressed;
I come to cast myself on Thee;
Thou art my Rest.
Look down on me, for I am weak;
I feel the toilsome journey's length;
Thine aid omnipotent I seek;
Thou art my Strength.
I am bewildered on my way;
Dark and tempestuous is the night;
Oh! shed thou forth some cheering ray;
Thou art my Light.
I hear the storms around me rise,
But when I dread the impending shock,
My spirit to her refuge flies;
Thou art my Rock.
When the accuser flings his darts,
I look to Thee—my terrors cease,—
Thy cross a hiding-place imparts;
Thou art my Peace.
Standing alone on Jordan's brink,
In that tremendous, latest strife,
Thou wilt not suffer me to sink;
Thou art my Life.
Thou wilt my every want supply,
Even to the end, whate'er befall
Through life in death eternally;
Thou art my All.
—Unidentified.