When dark­en­ing clouds ob­scure our sky,
And friends are few, and trou­ble nigh,
On one alone we may re­ly,
Jesus! pre­cious Sav­ior!

Friends, bask­ing in the sum­mer ray
Of bright­er hours, have passed away;
But one is left in sor­row’s day,
Jesus! pre­cious Sav­ior!

When hopes, like au­tumn leaves, are dead,
And ev­ery joy of earth is fled,
Sweet pil­low—rest for heart and head,
Jesus! pre­cious Sav­ior!

Jesus hath died thine heart to win,
His pre­cious blood atones for sin,
His lov­ing arms would take thee in:
Jesus! pre­cious Sav­ior!

Oh, let Him fold thee to His breast,
There find a true, a per­fect rest,
And thou shalt be for­ev­er blest,
By Je­sus! pre­cious Sav­ior!