O God, pre­serve me, for in Thee
Alone my trust has stood;
My soul has said, Thou art my Lord,
My chief and on­ly good.

I love Thy saints, who fear Thy name,
And walk as in Thy sight;
They are the ex­cel­lent of earth,
In them is my de­light.

Their sor­rows shall be mul­ti­plied
Who wor­ship aught but Thee;
I share not in their of­fer­ings,
Nor join their com­pa­ny.

The Lord is mine in­her­it­ance,
The Lord alone re­mains
The full­ness of my cup of bliss;
The Lord my lot main­tains.

The lines are fall­en un­to me
In plac­es large and fair;
A good­ly he­rit­age is mine,
Marked out with gra­cious care.