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98

P. M.

Thou art my hiding place.
Psalm 32:7.

Wm. Wilson.

To thee, O God! to thee,

With lowly heart I bend;

Lord, to my prayer attend,

And haste to succor me,

Thou never-failing friend!

For seas of trouble o’er me roll,

And ’whelm with tears my sinking soul.

2 On thee, O God! on thee,

With humble hope I’ll lean;

Thou who hast ever been

A hiding place to me

In many a troubled scene;

Whose heart, with love and mercy fraught,

Back to the fold thy wanderer brought.

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