WHEN overwhelmed with grief, My heart in sorrow lies, Helpless, and far from all relief: To Heaven I lift mine eyes.
O lead me to the Rock Of gracious, kindly aid; And make the covert of Thy wings My shelter and my shade.
Within Thy presence, Lord, For ever I’ll abide; Thou mighty tower of my defence, The refuge where I hide.
With all who fear Thy name, My heritage is sure; An undeserved and blessèd life In Heaven for evermore.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748