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.

Blest with communion so divine, Take what Thou wilt, shall! repine, When, as the branches to the vine, My soul may cling to Thee?

Far from her home, fatigued, opprest, Here she has found a place of rest; An exile still, yet not unblest, While she 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.

Oft when! seem to tread alone Some barren waste with thorns o'er grown, A voice of love in gentlest tone Whispers, "still cling to Me."

Though faith and hope awhile be tried, I ask not, need not, aught besides, 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.