Beset with snares on ev­ery hand,
In life’s un­cer­tain path I stand;
Savior di­vine, dif­fuse Thy light,
To guide my doubt­ful foot­steps right.

Engage this rov­ing, trea­cher­ous heart
To fix on Ma­ry’s bet­ter part,
To scorn the tri­fles of a day,
For joys that none can take away.

Then let the wild­est storms arise;
Let tem­pests min­gle earth and skies;
No fa­tal ship­wreck shall I fear,
But all my trea­sures with me bear.

If Thou, my Je­sus, still be nigh,
Cheerful I live, and joy­ful die;
Secure, when mor­tal com­forts flee,
To find ten thou­sand worlds in Thee.