O Jesus, Friend unfailing,
How dear art Thou to me!
Are cares or fears assailing?
I find my strength in Thee.
Why should my feet grow weary
Of this my pilgrim way?
Rough though the path and dreary,
It ends in perfect day.

Naught, naught I court as pleasure,
Compared, O Christ, with Thee,
Thy sorrow without measure
Earned peace and joy for me!
I love to own, Lord Jesus,
Thy claims o'er me divine,
Bought with Thy blood most precious,
Whose can I be but Thine?

What fills my heart with gladness?
'Tis Thine abounding grace;
Where can I look in sadness,
But, Saviour, on Thy face?
My all is Thy providing - 
Thy love can ne'er grow cold;
In Thee, my refuge, hiding - 
No good wilt Thou withhold.

Oh worldly pomp and glory,
Your charms are spread in vain!
I've heard a sweeter story,
I've found a truer gain:
Where Christ a place prepareth,
There is my loved abode;
There shall I gaze on Jesus,
There shall I dwell with God.