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WORDS OF TRUST. 
 
 BY REV. PETER STRYKER, D. D. 
 
 K^/77 f 
 
 COATES BROTHERS, 
 
 Cliftondale. Mass. 
 
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 COPYRIGHT 1887, 
 BY REV. PETER STRYKER, D. D. 
 
 Dedicated to My Friend, 
 The Hon. RICHARD CHUTE. 
 
"I LEAVE IT ALL VvlTII THEE. 
 
 O God, I leave it all with thee : 
 
 Thou leadest me; 
 And though the way at times seem drear, 
 
 I will not fear. 
 Do not I know that I am thine, 
 
 And thou art mine? 
 Why then should I be filled with care. 
 
 Or why despair? 
 
 There is an eye, a loving eye. 
 
 That from the sky 
 Is watching o'er me when I dread 
 
 My path to tread. 
 There is a voice, a gentle voice, 
 
 Bids me rejoice, 
 E'en in the very gloomiest hour 
 
 When storm-clouds lower. 
 
There is a hand omnipotent. 
 
 And I'm content 
 While I can trust that hand divine 
 
 Is holding mine. 
 There is a heart of tenderness, 
 
 And its caress 
 Is balm to my poor troubled breast 
 
 And gives me rest. 
 That eye, that voice, that hand, that heart, 
 
 Sweet peace impart; 
 And in them all by faith I see 
 
 One who loves me : 
 One whom I ever trust and love 
 
 All friends above. 
 On whom, to all eternity 
 
 I will rely. 
 Then, Lord, I leave it all with thee; 
 
 Thou strengthenest me; 
 And if the way seem dark and drear, 
 
 I will not fear. 
 
'MY HAND, DEAR LORD, IN THINE." 
 
 My hand, dear Lord, in thine ! 
 
 However dark the way, 
 A light within will ever shine, 
 
 A beam of day. 
 While on in faith I press. 
 
 My soul thou dost illume. 
 And I am full of happiness. 
 
 Nor mind the gloom. 
 
 My hand, dear Lord, in thine ! 
 
 What though the way seem rough? 
 If I may feel the touch divine. 
 
 It is enough. 
 Onward, o'er hill and dale. 
 
 My journey I'll pursue, 
 Until thou dost remove the veil, 
 
 And heaven I view. 
 
My hand, dear Lord, in thine ! 
 
 What though the way seem long? 
 My weary soul will not repine, 
 
 But sing a song. 
 My rest I'll find in thee, 
 
 In holy work my joy. 
 And prayer and praise shall ever be 
 
 My sweet employ. 
 
 My hand, dear Lord, in thine ! 
 
 I'll never let thee go; 
 Nor wilt thou e'er my soul resign 
 
 To endless woe. 
 Thy hold will be on me, 
 
 Amid the din and strife, 
 Until I wake to share with thee 
 
 Immortal life, 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 016 256 095 5 
 
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