1 He who has helped me hitherto
Will be my help forever;
His grace to me each morn is new,
His mercy ceases never.
All things are spread before His eyes;
In love He hears His children's cries,
His care on them bestowing.
2 The stormy sea, the darkest wave,
The winter sorely pressing,
The deepest grief, the gloomy grave,
The memories distressing,
Are helpful means in God's employ,
Who turns our weeping into joy
And leads us by His counsel.
3 When resting in God's mighty hands,
Our hearts are filled with gladness,
Then broken are all earthly bands
That cause us grief and sadness,
And opened are the portals wide
To God's own house, where saints abide,
Where flows the fount eternal.
4 Tho' still our clay to earth belong,
On words of God, as pinions,
Our souls shall soar, forever young,
To heaven's fair dominions;
And, safe upon that lofty height,
From earth's distress and sorry plight,
Shall find sweet consolation.
5 What though the world our faith do scorn
And earthly treasure gather,
We know that we are heaven-born
And heirs of God, our Father;
We greet His summons with a smile:
Our clay shall in a little while
Receive the wings of eagles.
Source: American Lutheran Hymnal #291