If oft I've wandered far from Thee;
E'en though Thine only Son has died
To save from death a child like me;
'O! still—to Thee when turns my heart
In hours of sadness, frequent now—
Be Thou the God that once Thou wert,
And calm my breast, and clear my brow.
'I'm now no more a little child
O'ershadowed by Thy mighty wing;
My very dreams seem now more wild