1 Lord, I am thine; but thou wilt prove My faith, my patience, and my love; When men of spite against me join, They are the sword, the hand is thine.
2 Their hope and portion lies below; 'Tis all the happiness they know, 'Tis all they seek; they take their shares, And leave the rest among their heirs.
3 What sinners value, I resign; Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine; I shall behold thy blissful face, And stand complete in righteousness.
4 This life's a dream, an empty show; But the bright world to which I go Hath joys substantial and sincere; When shall I wake, and find me there?
5 O glorious hour! O blest abode! I shall be near and like my God! And flesh and sin no more control The sacred pleasures of the soul.
6 My flesh shall slumber in the ground, Till the last trumpet's joyful sound; Then burst the chains with sweet surprise, And in my Saviour's image rise.