In the hour of tri­al,
Jesus, plead for me,
Lest by base de­ni­al
I de­part from Thee.
When Thou seest me wa­ver,
With a look re­call,
Nor for fear or fa­vor
Suffer me to fall.

With for­bid­den plea­sures
Would this vain world charm,
Or its sor­did trea­sures
Spread to work me harm,
Bring to my re­mem­brance
Sad Geth­se­ma­ne,
Or, in dark­er sem­blance,
Cross-crowned Cal­va­ry.

Should Thy mer­cy send me
Sorrow, toil and woe,
Or should pain at­tend me
On my path be­low,
Grant that I may ne­ver
Fail Thy hand to see;
Grant that I may ev­er
Cast my care on Thee.

When my last hour com­eth,
Fraught with strife and pain,
When my dust re­turn­eth
To the dust again,
On Thy truth re­ly­ing,
Through that mor­tal strife,
Jesus, take me, dy­ing
To eter­nal life.