“Fear not, it is but I!” shall flow
As balm my wound to heal.
3 Nor will I quit thy way, though foes
Some onward pass defend;
From each rough voice the watchword goes,
“Be not afraid! ... a friend!”
4 And O! when judgment’s trumpet clear
Awakes me from the grave,
Still in its echo may I hear,
“’Tis Christ! he comes to save.”