Lord, I Am Thine

Lord

I am Thine: but Thou wilt prove

My faith

my pa­tience

and my love:

When men of spite against me join

They are the sword

the hand is Thine.

Their hope and por­tion lies be­low:

’Tis all the hap­pi­ness they know

’Tis all they seek; they take their shares

And leave the rest among their heirs.

What sin­ners val­ue I re­sign;

Lord

’tis enough that Thou art mine:

I shall be­hold Thy bliss­ful face

And stand com­plete in right­eous­ness.

This life’s a dream

an emp­ty show;

But the bright world to which I go

Hath joys sub­stan­tial and sin­cere:

When shall I wake

and find me there?

O glo­ri­ous hour! O blest ab­ode!

I shall be near and like my God!

And flesh and sin no more con­trol

The sac­red plea­sures of the soul.

My flesh shall slum­ber in the ground

Till the last trum­pet’s joy­ful sound;

Then burst the chains in sweet sur­prise

And in my Sav­ior’s im­age rise.