But Thou, oh Lord, shalt be my guide

But Thou, oh Lord, shalt be my guide Through all my dreary way, And down the vale of death beside Thy staff shall be my stay. To thee alone I’ll lift mine eye When snares have made me fall; To Thee, when low in grief I lie, From lowest deeps I’ll call.

And oh, on Thee in every hour Of sunshine or of shade, The soul that feels thy varied power, Shall call for varied aid; So shalt thou lead me in the light That round thy saints is cast, O’er Jordan’s flood, to Zion’s height, And home to Heaven at last.