None is like God, who reigns above,So great, so pure, so high;None is like God, whose Name is Love,And Who is always nigh.
In all the earth there is no spotExcluded from His care;We cannot go where God is not,For He is everywhere.
He is our best and kindest Friend,And guards us night and day;To all our wants He will attend,And answer when we pray.
O if we love Him as we ought,And on His grace rely,We shall be joyful at the thoughtThat God is always nigh.
O to be like Thee! blessèd Redeemer,This is my constant longing and prayer;Gladly I’ll forfeit all of earth’s treasures,Jesus, Thy perfect likeness to wear.
O to be like Thee! O to be like Thee,Blessèd Redeemer, pure as Thou art;Come in Thy sweetness, come in Thy fullness;Stamp Thine own image deep on my heart.
O to be like Thee! full of compassion,Loving, forgiving, tender and kind,Helping the helpless, cheering the fainting,Seeking the wandering sinner to find.
O to be like Thee! lowly in spirit,Holy and harmless, patient and brave;Meekly enduring cruel reproaches,Willing to suffer others to save.
O to be like Thee! Lord, I am comingNow to receive anointing divine;All that I am and have I am bringing,Lord, from this moment all shall be Thine.
O to be like Thee! while I am pleading,Pour out Thy Spirit, fill with Thy love;Make me a temple meet for Thy dwelling,Fit me for life and Heaven above.
O who like Thee, so calm, so bright,Thou Son of Man, Thou Light of Light?O who like Thee did ever goSo patient through a world of woe!
O who like Thee so humbly boreThe scorn, the scoffs of men before;So meek, forgiving, Godlike, highSo glorious in humility!
And all Thy life’s unchanging years,A man of sorrows and of tears,The cross, where all our sins were laid,Upon Thy bending shoulders weighed.
And death, which sets the prisoner free,Was pang, and scoff, and scorn to Thee;Yet love through all Thy torture glowed,And mercy with Thy life blood flowed.
O in Thy light be mine to go,Illuming all this way of woe;And give me ever on the roadTo trace Thy footsteps, Son of God.
O God, beneath Thy guiding handOur exiled fathers crossed the sea;And when they trod the wintry strand,With prayer and psalm they worshipped Thee.
Thou heardest, well pleased, the song, the prayer:Thy blessing came; and still its powerShall onward, through all ages, bearThe memory of that holy hour.
Laws, freedom, truth and faith in GodCame with those exiles o’er the waves;And, where their pilgrim feet have trod,The God they trusted guards their graves.
And here Thy Name, O God of love,Their children’s children still adore,Till these eternal hills remove,And spring adorns the earth no more.
To Thee, O God, whose guiding handOur fathers led across the sea,And brought them to this barren shore,Where they might freely worship Thee—
To Thee, O God, whose arm sustainedTheir footsteps in this desert land,Where sickness lurked, and death assailedAnd foes beset on every hand—
To Thee, O God, we lift our eyes,To Thee our grateful voices raise,And, kneeling at Thy gracious throne,Devoutly join in hymns of praise.
Our fathers’ God, incline Thine ear,And listen to our heartfelt prayer;Surround us with Thy heavenly grace,And guard us with Thy constant care.
Our fathers’ God, in Thee we’ll trust,Sheltered by Thee from every harm;We’ll follow where Thy hand shall guide,And lean on Thy sustaining arm.