Christ is thy light, O wan­d’rer, tem­pest tossed!
The bea­con light is point­ing to thy rest;
Dark is the night, and roc­ky is the coast,
But sure it shines above the bil­low’s crest;
Christ is thy light!

Christ is thy strength, O faint and wea­ry soul!
Thy strife is vain; em­brace with­out de­lay
The grace that pleads
With thee to make thee whole;
Who by His blood has washed thy sins away;
Christ is thy strength!

Christ is thy guide, O pil­grim seek­ing rest!
He gent­ly bids thee op­en wide the door
For Him to enter in and be thy guest;
O trust and fol­low Him for­ev­er­more;
Christ is thy guide!

Christ is thy hope! O cling to self no more,
No more to hopes which flat­ter and de­cay,
But to the Rock that stands the tempest’s roar,
On which thy trem­bling ark will find a stay;
Christ is thy hope!

Christ is thy king! He wore the crown for thee,
A crown of thorns, a dia­dem so meet;
But bow be­fore His love that made thee free,
And hum­bly cast thy crown be­fore His feet;
Christ is thy king!