Preserve Thy faith­ful servant, Lord,
Who art the re­fuge of the just;
To me Thy shel­ter­ing aid af­ford,
For in Thine arm alone I trust.

The saints, who dwell the earth around,
I view with plea­sure and de­light;
But they who oth­er gods have found,
I cast with hor­ror from my sight.

I will not min­gle with the throng
Whose guilt their sor­row mul­ti­plies;
I will not name them with my tongue,
Nor join their bloody sac­ri­fice.

God is my por­tion here be­low:
’Tis He who shall my lot main­tain;
His boun­ty makes my cup o’er­flow,
And frees my anx­ious soul from pain.

Thou shalt unto my long­ing eyes
The path of end­less life dis­play:
Where, in Thy pre­sence, joys arise
Which nei­ther lang­uish nor de­cay.