He wants not friends that hath Thy love,
And may con­verse and walk with Thee;
And with Thy saints here and above,
With whom for­ev­er I must be.

In the com­mun­ion of the saints
Is wis­dom, safe­ty and de­light;
And, when my heart de­clines and faints,
It’s raised by their heat and light.

As for my friends, they are not lost;
The sev­er­al ves­sels of Thy fleet,
Though part­ed now, by tem­pests tossed,
Shall safe­ly in the hav­en meet.

Still we are cen­tered all in Thee,
Members, though dist­ant, of one head;
In the same fa­mi­ly we be,
By the same faith and Spi­rit led.

Before Thy throne we dai­ly meet
As joint pe­ti­tion­ers to Thee;
In spi­rit we each oth­er greet,
And shall again each oth­er see.

The heav’n­ly hosts, world with­out end,
Shall be my com­pa­ny above;
And Thou, my best and sur­est friend,
Who shall di­vide me from Thy love?