Jesus, my Savior, 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; O send Thou forth some cheering ray: Thou art my Light. I hear the storms around me rise; But when I dread th’impending shock, My spirit to the Refuge flies: Thou art my Rock. When Satan flings his fiery 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 will not suffer me to sink: Thou art my Life. Thou wilt my every want supply, E’en to the end, whate’er befall; Through life, in death, eternally, Thou art my All. |