Up to the hills I lift mine eyes,
Th’eter­nal hills be­yond the skies;
Thence all her help my soul de­rives;
There my al­migh­ty re­fuge lives.

He lives, the ev­er­last­ing God,
That built the world, that spread the flood;
The heav’ns with all their hosts He made,
And dark­est re­gions of the dead.

He guides our feet, He guards our way;
His morn­ing smiles bless all the day;
He spreads the ev­en­ing veil and keeps
The si­lent hours while Is­ra­el sleeps.

Israel, a name di­vine­ly blest,
May rise se­cure, se­cure­ly rest;
Thy ho­ly guard­ian’s wake­ful eyes
Admit no slum­ber nor sur­prise.

No sun shall smite thy head by day,
Nor pal­lid moon with sick­ly ray
Shall blast thy couch; no bale­ful star
Dart his ma­lig­nant fire so far.

Should earth and hell with ma­lice burn,
Still thou shalt go and still re­turn
Safe in the Lord; His heav’n­ly care
Defends thy life from ev­ery snare.

On thee foul spir­its have no pow­er;
And in thy last de­part­ing hour
Angels, that trace the ai­ry road,
Shall bear thee home­ward to thy God.