From God shall naught di­vide me,
For He is true for aye
And on my path will guide me,
Who else should oft­en stray.
His right hand hold­eth me;
For me He tru­ly car­eth,
My bur­dens ev­er bear­eth,
Wherever I may be.

When man’s help and af­fect­ion
Shall un­avail­ing prove,
God grants me His pro­tect­ion
And shows His pow­er and love.
He helps in ev­ery need,
From sin and shame re­deems me,
From chains and bonds re­claims me,
Yea, e’en from death I’m freed.

God shall be my re­li­ance
In sor­row’s dark­est night;
Its dread I bid de­fi­ance
When He is at my right.
I un­to Him com­mend
My bo­dy, soul, and spi­rit—
They are His own by mer­it—
All’s well then at the end.

Oh, praise Him, for He ne­ver
Forgets our dai­ly need;
Oh, blest the hour when­ev­er
To Him our thoughts can speed;
Yea, all the time we spend
Without Him is wast­ed,
Till we His joy have tast­ed,
The joy that hath no end.

Yea, when the world shall per­ish
With all its pride and pow­er,
Whatever world­lings cher­ish
Shall van­ish in that hour.
But though in death they make
The deep­est grave our co­ver,
When there our sleep is ov­er,
Our God will us awake.

What though I here must suf­fer
Distress and tri­als sore,
I mer­it ways still rough­er;
And yet there is in store
For me eter­nal bliss,
Yea, plea­sures with­out mea­sure,
Since Christ is now my trea­sure,
And shall be ev­er­more.