How full of ang­uish is the thought,
How it dis­tracts and tears my heart,
If God at last, my so­ver­eign judge,
Should frown, and bid my soul De­part!

Lord, when I quit this earth­ly stage,
Where shall I fly, but to Thy breast?
For I have sought no other home;
For I have learned no oth­er rest.

I can­not live con­tent­ed here,
Without some glimps­es of Thy face;
And Heav’n, with­out Thy pre­sence there,
Would be a dark and tire­some place.

When earth­ly cares en­gross the day,
And hold my thoughts aside from Thee,
The shin­ing hours of cheer­ful light
Are long and te­di­ous years to me.

And if no ev­en­ing vi­sit’s paid
Between my Sav­ior and my soul,
How dull the night! how sad the shade!
How mourn­ful­ly the min­utes roll!

This flesh of mine might learn as soon
To live, yet part with all my blood;
To breathe, when vi­tal air is gone,
Or thrive and grow with­out my food.

Christ is my light, my life, my care,
My bless­èd hope, my heav’n­ly prize;
Dearer than all my pas­sions are,
My limbs, my bow­els, or my eyes.

The strings that twine about my heart,
Tortures and racks may tear them off;
But they can ne­ver, ne­ver part
With their dear hold of Christ my love.

My God! And can a hum­ble child,
That loves Thee with a flame so high,
Be ev­er from Thy face ex­iled,
Without the pi­ty of Thine eye?

Impossible! For Thine own hands
Have tied my heart so fast to Thee;
And in Thy book the pro­mise stands,
That where Thou art, Thy friends must be.