When I sink down in gloom or fear,
Hope blighted or delayed,
Thy whisper, Lord, my heart shall cheer,
"It's I, be not afraid.

Or, startled at some sudden blow
If fretfrul thoughts I feel,
"Fear not, it is but I!" shall flow,
As balm my wound to heal.

Nor will I quit thy way, though foes
Some onward pass defend;
From each rough voice the watch-word goes,
"Be not afraid! A friend!"

And oh! When judgment's trumpet clear
Awakes me from the grave,
Still in its echo may I hear
"It's Christ! He comes to save.