He that dwelleth in the secret
Place of God, Most High,
When the days of biting bitterness
And travail draweth nigh,
With the crimsoned lintel over
And the sheltering solace sure,
Doth abide beneath the shadow
Of Omnipotence, secure.
Art thou dwelling in this hiding,
Underneath the sprinkled blood?
Is thy soul, by grace, abiding
In the secret place of God?
There is fullness there, and sweetness;
All thy pow’rs find full employ,
Gladness, comforting, completeness,
Peace, and everlasting joy.
He a fortress is and refuge
Unto all who trust;
From the fowler’s snare and pestilence
He ransometh the just;
His truth is shield and buckler,
So the potent promise rings,
And there’s rest, delight and safety
’Neath the cover of His wings.
He that said it:
I will answer
Him who calls on Me;
I will honor and deliver him,
From trouble set him free;
Because his love is on Me still,
My name to glorify,
I will save and satisfy him,
And will give him life on high.