Lord, I have made Thy Word my choice,
My last­ing he­rit­age;
There shall my nob­lest pow­ers re­joice,
My warm­est thoughts en­gage.

I’ll read the his­to­ries of Thy love,
And keep Thy laws in sight,
While through the pro­mis­es I rove,
With ev­er fresh de­light.

’Tis a broad land of wealth un­known,
Where springs of life arise,
Seeds of im­mor­tal bliss are sown,
And hid­den glo­ry lies.

The best re­lief that mourn­ers have,
It makes our sor­rows blest;
Our fair­est hope be­yond the grave,
And our eter­nal rest.