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Written for one not likely to recover
LEANING on Thee, my Guide, my Friend, | |
| My gracious Saviour! I am blest; | |
| Though weary, Thou dost condescend | |
| To be my rest. | |
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| Leaning on Thee, this darkened room | 5 |
| Is cheered by a celestial ray: | |
| Thy pitying smile dispels the gloom— | |
| Turns night to day. | |
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| Leaning on Thee, my soul retires | |
| From earthly thoughts and earthly things; | 10 |
| On Thee concentrates her desires; | |
| To Thee she clings. | |
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| Leaning on Thee, with childlike faith, | |
| To Thee the future I confide; | |
| Each step of life’s untrodden path | 15 |
| Thy love will guide. | |
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| Leaning on Thee, I breathe no moan, | |
| Though faint with languor, parched with heat | |
| Thy will has now become my own— | |
| Thy will is sweet. | 20 |
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| Leaning on Thee, midst torturing pain, | |
| With patience Thou my soul dost fill: | |
| Thou whisperest, “What did I sustain?” | |
| Then I am still. | |
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| Leaning on Thee, I do not dread | 25 |
| The havoc slow disease may make; | |
| Thou, who for me Thy blood hast shed, | |
| Wilt ne’er forsake. | |
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| Leaning on Thee, though faint and weak, | |
| Too weak another voice to hear, | 30 |
| Thy heavenly accents comfort speak, | |
| “Be of good cheer!” | |
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| Leaning on Thee, no fear alarms; | |
| Calmly I stand on death’s dark brink | |
| I feel “the everlasting arms,” | 35 |
| I cannot sink. | |
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