Come, Lord, Thyself with Thine abounding grace;

Mine utmost depth of need Thine eyes can trace:

Thou, Lord, through life's long way my Guard and Guide;

Let not Thy pilgrim's last tired footsteps slide.

Upon my sight dark dawns the rising day;

Faint fall the sounds of earth, and far away:

None, none can aid; by death's lone, narrow door,

I pass beyond man's help for evermore.

None, none can aid but Thou, Almighty Lord;

I stay me on Thine everlasting Word;

Let earth decay, heaven's far-flung glories pale,

Jehovah's plighted word can never fail.

Within the Eternal Arms I sink to rest,

Washed in the stream that flowed from Jesus' breast:

The life Thou gavest, Father, now defend;

Into Thine Hands my spirit I commend.

Let the last psalm my dying voice can raise,

Extol Thy loving-kindness, hymn Thy praise:

Let the first notes my wakening lips can frame

Amid the eternal glory, laud Thy Name.

First, midst, and last, through that unclouded day,

I would my Saviour's boundless grace display,

And swell the anthems of the ransomed host,

Adoring Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.