To the hills I lift mine eyes,
The ev­er­last­ing hills;
Streaming thence in fresh sup­plies,
My soul the Spi­rit feels.
Will He not His help af­ford?
Help, while yet I ask, is giv­en:
God comes down; the God and Lord
That made both earth and Hea­ven.

Faithful soul, pray al­ways; pray
And still in God con­fide;
He thy fee­ble steps shall stay,
Nor suf­fer thee to slide:
Lean on thy Re­deem­er’s breast;
He thy qui­et spi­rit keeps;
Rest in Him, se­cure­ly rest;
Thy watch­man ne­ver sleeps.

Neither sin, nor earth, nor hell
Thy keep­er can sur­prise;
Careless slum­bers can­not steal
On His all see­ing eyes;
He is Is­ra­el’s sure de­fense;
Israel all His care shall prove,
Kept by watch­ful pro­vi­dence,
And ev­er wak­ing love.

See the Lord, thy keep­er, stand
Omnipotently near!
Lo! He holds thee by thy hand,
And ban­ish­es thy fear;
Shadows with His wings thy head;
Guards from all im­pend­ing harms;
Round thee and be­neath are spread
The ev­er­last­ing arms.

Christ shall bless thy go­ing out,
Shall bless thy com­ing in;
Kindly com­pass thee about,
Till thou art saved from sin;
Like thy spot­less mas­ter, thou,
Filled with wis­dom, love and pow­er,
Holy, pure and per­fect, now,
Henceforth, and ev­er­more.