The Everlasting Arms

Serenely dwell the heirs of grace

In ev­ery age and clime and place

Supported by the firm em­brace

Of ev­er­last­ing arms.

Though they are pil­grims far from home

Who seek a ci­ty yet to come

They camp each night

wher­e’er they roam

In ev­er­last­ing arms.

When threat­en­ing foes make loud pre­tense

Of num­bers vast and strength im­mense

They ev­er find a sure de­fense

In ev­er­last­ing arms.

They dread no judg­ment day of ire

Undying worm

and quench­less fire;

But find the shel­ter they re­quire

In ev­er­last­ing arms.

And when they reach the Jor­dan’s brink

Back from its wave they need not shrink;

They per­ish not

but on­ly sink

In ev­er­last­ing arms.

In Heav’n they walk at li­ber­ty

From Sa­tan

sin

and death set free;

Abiding through eter­ni­ty

In ev­er­last­ing arms.