Or lifted up my sinking head!
2 In all my ways Thy hand I own,
Thy ruling providence I see:
Assist me still my course to run,
And still direct my paths to Thee.
3 Whither, oh whither should I fly,
But to my loving Father’s breast;
Secure within Thine arms to lie,
And safe beneath Thy wings to rest!
4 I have no skill the snare to shun,