O Thou in whose presence my soul takes delight
On whom in affliction I call,
My comfort by day and my song in the night
My hope, my salvation, my all.
Where dost thou at noontide resort with thy sheep
To feed on the pastures of love?
Say why in the valley of death should I weep,
Or alone in the wilderness rove?
O why should I wander an alien from Thee
Or cry in the desert for bread?
Thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they'll see
And smile at the tears I have shed.
Dear shepherd, I hear and will follow thy call;
I know the sweet sound of Thy voice.
Restore and defend me, for Thou art my all,
And in Thee I will ever rejoice.
- Joseph Swain, London, 1791
