He leadeth me! O blessed thought

He leadeth me! O blessed thought

O words with heav’nly comfort fraught;

Whate’er I do

where’er I be

Still ’tis Christ’s hand that leadeth me.

He leadeth me! He leadeth me!

By His own hand He leadeth me;

His faithful follower I would be

For by His hand He leadeth me.

Sometimes ’mid scenes of deepest gloom

Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom

By waters still

o’er troubled sea

Still ’tis His hand that leadeth me.

Lord

I would clasp Thy hand in mine

Nor ever murmur or repine;

Content

whatever lot I see

Since it is Thou that leadest me.

And when my task on earth is done

When

by Thy grace

the vict’ry’s won

E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee

Since Thou in triumph leadest me.