When sins and fears pre­vail­ing rise,
And faint­ing hope al­most ex­pires;
Jesus, to Thee I lift my eyes,
To Thee I breathe my soul’s de­sires.

Art Thou not mine, my liv­ing Lord?
And can my hope, my com­fort die,
Fixed on Thy ev­er­last­ing word,
That word which built the earth and sky?

If my im­mor­tal Sav­ior lives,
Then my im­mor­tal life is sure;
His word a firm foun­da­tion gives,
Here let me build, and rest se­cure.

Here, let my faith un­shak­en dwell,
Immovable the pro­mise stands;
Nor all the pow­ers of earth or hell,
Can e’er dis­solve the sacr­ed bands.

Here, O my soul, thy trust re­pose;
If Je­sus is for ev­er mine,
Not death it­self, that last of foes,
Shall break a un­ion so di­vine.