Now that my journey’s just begun,
My course so little trod,
I’ll stay, before I further run,
And give myself to God.
And, lest I should be ever led
Through sinful paths to stray,
I would at once begin to tread
In wisdom’s pleasant way.
What sorrows may my steps attend,
I cannot now foretell;
But if the Lord will be my friend,
I know that all is well.
If all my earthly friends should die,
And leave me mourning here;
Since God regards the orphan’s cry,
O what have I to fear?
If I am rich, He’ll guard my heart,
Temptation to withstand;
And make me willing to impart
The bounties of His hand.
If I am poor, He can supply
Who has my table spread;
Who feeds the ravens when they cry,
And fills His poor with bread.
And, Lord, whatever grief or ill
For me may be in store,
Make me submissive to Thy will,
And I would ask no more.
Attend me through my youthful way,
Whatever be my lot;
And when I’m feeble, old, and gray,
O Lord, forsake me not.
Then still, as seasons hasten by,
I will for Heav’n prepare;
That God may take me when I die,
To dwell forever there.