To Thee, O Lord, I fly
And on Thy help de­pend;
Thou art my Lord and king most high;
Do Thou my soul de­fend.
A he­ri­tage for me
Jehovah will re­main;
My por­tion rich and full is He,
My right He will main­tain.

The lot to me that fell
Is beau­ti­ful and fair;
The he­ri­tage in which I dwell
Is good be­yond com­pare.
I praise the Lord above
Whose coun­sel guides aright;
My heart in­structs me in His love
In sea­sons of the night.

I keep be­fore me still
The Lord whom I have proved;
At my right hand He guards from ill,
And I shall not be moved.
Life’s path­way Thou wilt show,
To Thy right hand wilt guide,
Where streams of plea­sure ev­er flow,
And bound­less joys abide.