5 Though oft I seem to tread alone Life’s dreary waste, with thorns o’ergrown, Thy voice of love in gentlest tone, Still whispers, “Cling to me!”
6 Though faith and hope are often tried, I ask not, need not aught beside; So safe, so calm, so satisfied, The soul that clings to thee!
372 6s. Cling to the Crucified.
Cling to the Crucified! His eye shall guard thee well— For thee, fast from his side, The crimson current fell.
2 Cling to the Crucified! My weary feet in peace His tender hand shall guide Till all thy wanderings cease.
3 Cling to the Crucified! His love the golden door For thee shall open wide, And bless thee evermore.