Long did I toil and knew no earthly rest,
Far did I rove and found no certain home;
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast,
Who opes His arms and bids the weary come:
With Him I found a home, a rest divine,
And I since then am His, and He is mine.

The good I have is from His stores supplied,
The ill is only what He deems the best;
He for my friend I'm rich with nought beside,
And poor without Him, though of all possessed;
Changes may come, I take or I resign,
Content, while I am His, while He is mine.
Whate'er may change, in Him no change is seen,
A glorious Sun that wanes not nor declines,
Above the storms and clouds He walks, serene,
And on His people's inward darkness shines;
All may depart, I fret not, nor repine,
While I my Saviour's am, while He is mine.

While here, alas! I know but half His love,
But half discern Him and but half adore;
But when I meet him in the realms above
I hope to love Him better, praise Him more,
And feel, and tell, amid the choir divine,
How fully I am His and He is mine.