To the Haven of Thy Breast

To the hav­en of Thy breast

O Son of Man

I fly;

Be my re­fuge and my rest

For oh! the storm is high;

Save me from the fu­ri­ous blast

A co­vert from the tem­pest be

Hide me

Je­su

till o’er­past

The storm of sin I see.

Welcome as the wa­ter-spring

To a dry

bar­ren place

O des­cend on me

and bring

Thy sweet re­fresh­ing grace;

O’er a parched and wea­ry land

As a great rock ex­tends its shade

Hide me

Sav­ior

with Thy hand

And screen my nak­ed head.

In the time of my dis­tress

Thou hast my suc­cor been

In my ut­ter help­less­ness

Restraining me from sin;

O how swift­ly didst Thou move

To save me in the try­ing hour!

Still pro­tect me with Thy love

And shield me with Thy pow­er.

First

and last in me per­form

The work Thou hast be­gun;

Be my shel­ter from the storm

My sha­dow from the sun;

Sprinkle still the mer­cy-seat

And bring Thy Fa­ther’s an­ger down;

Screen me

Je­su

from the heat

And ter­ror of His frown.

Let Thy mer­it as a cloud

Still in­ter­pose be­tween

Plead th’atone­ment of Thy blood

Till I am cleansed from sin;

Weary

parched with thirst and faint

Till Thou th’ab­id­ing Spir­it breathe

Every mo­ment

Lord

I want

The mer­it of Thy death.

Never shall I want it less

Till Thou the gift hast giv­en

Filled me with Thy right­eous­ness

And sealed the heir of Heav­en;

I shall hang up­on my God

Till I Thy per­fect glo­ry see

Till the sprink­ling of Thy blood

Shall speak me up to Thee.