87.  He Leadeth Me

1
He leadeth me, O blessed thought!
O words with heav’nly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be,
Still ‘tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

Chorus
He leadeth me! he leadeth me!
By his own hand he leadeth me.
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
For by his hand he leadeth me.

2
Sometimes ‘mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,
By waters still, o’er troubled sea-
Still ‘tis his hand that leadeth me.

3
Lord, I would clasp thy hand in mine,
Nor ever murmur or repine-
Content whatever lot I see,
Since ‘tis my God that leadeth me.

4
And when my task on earth is done,
When by thy grace the vict’ry’s won,
E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee,
Since God thro’ Jordan leadeth me.