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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