O HOLY Saviour, Friend unseen, The faint, the weak, on Thee may lean; Help me, throughout life’s varying scene, By faith to cling to Thee.
Far from my home, fatigued, oppressed, Here have I found a place of rest; An exile still, yet not unblest, While I can cling to Thee.
What though the world deceitful prove, And earthly friends and joys remove? With patient uncomplaining love Still would I cling to Thee.
Though faith and hope awhile be tried, I ask not, need not aught beside; How safe, how calm, how satisfied The souls that cling to Thee!
They fear not life’s rough storms to brave, Since Thou art near and strong to save; Nor shudder e’en at death’s dark wave, Because they cling to Thee.
Blest is my lot, whate’er befall; What can disturb me, who appal, While as my Strength, my Rock, my All, Saviour, I cling to Thee?
Charlotte Elliott, 1789-1871