Children of the heav’nly Fa­ther
Safely in His bo­som gather;
Nestling bird nor star in Hea­ven
Such a re­fuge e’er was giv­en.

God His own doth tend and nour­ish;
In His ho­ly courts they flour­ish;
From all ev­il things He spares them;
In His migh­ty arms He bears them.

Neither life nor death shall ev­er
From the Lord His child­ren se­ver;
Unto them His grace He show­eth,
And their sor­rows all He know­eth.

Praise the Lord in joy­ful num­bers:
Your pro­tect­or ne­ver slum­bers;
At the will of your de­fend­er
Every foe­man must su­rren­der.

Though He giv­eth or He tak­eth,
God His child­ren ne’er for­sak­eth;
His the lov­ing pur­pose sole­ly
To pre­serve them pure and ho­ly.