1 Serenely dwell the heirs of grace
In every age and clime and place,
Supported by the firm embrace
Of everlasting arms.
Though they are pilgrims far from home,
Who seek a city yet to come,
They camp each night, where’er they roam,
In everlasting arms.

2 When threatening foes make loud pretense
Of numbers vast and strength immense,
They ever find a sure defense
In everlasting arms.
They dread no judgment day of ire,
Undying worm, and quenchless fire;
But find the shelter they require
In everlasting arms.

3 And when they reach the Jordan’s brink,
Back from its wave they need not shrink;
They perish not, but only sink
In everlasting arms.
In Heav’n they walk at liberty,
From Satan, sin, and death set free;
Abiding through eternity
In everlasting arms.