When earthly joys glide swift away, When hopes and comforts flee,
When earthly joys glide swift away, When hopes and comforts flee, When foes beset, and friends betray, I turn, my God, to Thee!
Thy nature, Lord, no change can know; Thy promise still is sure; And ills can ne'er so hopeless grow But Thou canst find a cure.
Deliverance comes most bright and best At danger's darkest hour; And man's extremity is best To prove Almighty power.
High as Thou art, Thou still art near When suppliants succour crave; And as Thine ear is swift to hear, Thy arm is strong to save.
~ Henry Francis Lyte
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