Mighty Rock, Whose Towering Form

Mighty Rock

whose tow­er­ing form

Looks above the frown­ing storm

Rock amid the de­sert waste

To Thy sha­dow now I haste.

Unto Thee

un­to Thee

Precious Sav­ior

now I flee;

“Rock of Ag­es

cleft for me

Let me hide my­self in Thee.”

Of the springs that from Thee burst

Let me drink and quench my thirst;

Weary

faint­ing

toil-op­pressed

In Thy sha­dow let me rest.

When I near the stream of death

When I feel its chil­ly breath

Rock where all my hopes ab­ide

In Thy sha­dow let me hide.