Hymnal ‎#253

253. Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord!

1 Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord!
In Thee I put my trust,
Encouraged by Thy holy word,
A feeble child of dust.
I have no argument beside,
I urge no other plea;
And 'tis enough my Saviour died,
My Saviour died for me.

2 When storms of fierce temptation beat,
And furious foes assail,
My refuge is the mercy-seat,
My hope within the veil.
From strife of tongues and bitter words
My spirit flies to Thee:
Joy to my heart the thought affords,
My Saviour died for me.

3 'Mid trials heavy to be borne,
When mortal strength is vain,
A heart with grief and anguish torn,
A body rack'd with pain. --
Ah! what could give the sufferer rest,
Bid every murmur flee,
But this, the witness in my breast
That Jesus died for me?

4 And when Thine awful voice commands
This body to decay,
And life, in its last lingering sands,
Is ebbing fast away,--
Then, though it be in accents weak,
And faint and tremblingly,
O give me strength in death to speak,
My Savior died for me.

Text Information

• First Line: Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord!
• Meter: D. C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1871
• Topic: Offices of the Church: Visitation of the Sick

Tune Information

(No tune information)