He Leadeth Me O Blessed Thought

Hymn

He leadeth me! O bless-ed tho't, O words with heav’n-ly com-fort fraught; What-e’er I do, wher-e’er I be, Still ’tis God’s hand that lead-eth me. He lead-eth me! He lead-eth me! By His own hand He lead-eth me; His faith-ful fol-l'wer I would be, For by His hand He lead-eth me. Some-times ’mid scenes of deep-est gloom, Some-times where E-den’s bow-ers bloom, By wa-ters still, o’er trou-bled sea, Still ’tis His hand that lead-eth me. Lord, I would clasp Thy hand in mine, Nor ev-er mur-mur nor re-pine; Con-tent, what-eve-r lot I see, Since 'tis Thy hand lead-est me. And when my task on earth is done, When, by Thy grace, the vic-t’ry’s won, E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee, Since God thro' Jor-dan lead-eth me!

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