1 While we thro' this valley
Of sorrow are seeking,
'Mid pleasures and pastimes,
A balm for each wound,
O, would that, like Mary,
When Jesus was speaking,
We might at the feet
Of our Savior be found.

2 We may glide as in dreaming
Adown life's swift river,
Where rise fairest islands
Our vision to greet;
Yet peace, love, and pardon
Elude us forever,
Till, humbly, like Mary,
We sit at his feet.

3 O who would not labor
To reach that bright glory,
The ransomed shall gain
In yon heavenly clime;
Where angels are shouting
The wonderful story,
"Lost man is reclaimed
By affection divine."

4 We'll dwell with the angels,
When sorrows are ended,
With Jesus who wept
That we sinners might weep;
All hail! Prince Immanuel!
Who sinners befriended,
And saved from the storm
That swept over the deep.