Save me, O Lord, from every foe;
In thee my trust I place,
Though all the good that I can do
Can ne'er deserve thy grace.
Yet if my God prolong my breath,
The saints may profit by 't;
The saints, the glory of the earth,
The men of my delight.
Let heathens to their idols haste,
And worship wood or stone;
But my delightful lot is cast
Where the true God is known.
His hand provides my constant food,
He fills my daily cup;
Much am I pleased with present good,
But more rejoice in hope.
God is my portion and my joy,
His counsels are my light;
He gives me sweet advice by day,
And gentle hints by night.
My soul would all her thoughts approve
To his all-seeing eye;
Not death, nor hell, my hope shall move,
While such a Friend is nigh.