Thou Art My Hiding Place

Verse 1

Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord! In Thee I put my trust, Encouraged by Thy holy word, A feeble child of dust. I have no argument beside, I urge no other plea; And 'tis enough my Saviour died, My Saviour died for me.

Verse 2

When storms of fierce temptation beat, And furious foes assail, My refuge is the mercy-seat, My hope within the veil. From strife of tongues and bitter words My spirit flies to Thee: Joy to my heart the thought affords, My Saviour died for me.

Verse 3

'Mid trials heavy to be borne, When mortal strength is vain, A heart with grief and anguish torn, A body rack'd with pain. -- Ah! what could give the sufferer rest, Bid every murmur flee, But this, the witness in my breast That Jesus died for me?

Verse 4

And when Thine awful voice commands This body to decay, And life, in its last lingering sands, Is ebbing fast away,-- Then, though it be in accents weak, And faint and tremblingly, O give me strength in death to speak, My Saviour died for me.