Abiding, oh, so wondrous sweet,
I’m resting at the Savior’s feet,
I trust in Him, I’m satisfied,
I’m resting in the Crucified.
Oh! so wondrous sweet;
I’m resting, resting,
At the Savior’s feet.
He speaks, and by His word is giv’n
His peace, a rich foretaste of Heav’n;
Not as the world He peace doth give,
’Tis thro’ this hope my soul shall live.
I live; not I; ’tis He alone
By whom the mighty work is done;
Dead to myself, alive to Him,
I count all loss His rest to gain.
Now rest, my heart, the work is done;
I’m saved thro’ the eternal Son:
Let all my pow’rs my soul employ,
To tell the world my peace and joy.