’Twixt gleams of joy and clouds of doubt our feel­ings come and go;
Our dai­ly state is tossed about in cease­less ebb and flow.
No mood of feel­ing, form of thought, is con­stant for a day;
But Thou, O Lord, Thou chang­est not, the same Thou art al­way.

Out of the weak, un­qui­et drift that comes but to de­part,
To that pure hea­ven my spi­rit lift where Thou un­chang­ing art.
Lay hold of me with Thy strong grasp, let Thine al­migh­ty arm
In its em­brace my weak­ness clasp, and I shall fear no harm.

Thy pur­pose of eter­nal good let me but sure­ly know,
On this I’ll lean—let chang­ing mood and feel­ing come or go
Glad when Thy sun­shine fills my soul, nor sad when clouds ov­er­cast,
Since Thou with­in Thy sure con­trol of love dost hold me fast.