1 Lord, clasp my faltering hand in Thine;
Too weak I am to walk alone;
My path, dear Lord, I would not choose,
But ever say, "Thy will be done."

2 Tempted at times, to trust in self,
And in this self, feel brave and strong;
Help, in my weakness, Thee to trust,
To do the right, and shun the wrong.

3 I’ll trust in Thee each day, and hour,
As through this sinful world I go;
I’ll lean upon Thine arm of power,
And then defeat I ne’er shall know.

4 If I in Thee shall fall asleep,
Or in the clouds shall see Thee come,
Then, where there’ll be no cause to weep,
Greet me, my Savior, in that home.