Our best estate is toss'd about

In ceaseless ebb and flow.

No mood of feeling, form of thought,

Is constant for a day;

But Thou, O LORD! Thou changest not;

The same Thou art alway.

I grasp Thy strength, make it mine own,

My heart with peace is blest;

I lose my hold, and then comes down

Darkness and cold unrest.

Let me no more my comfort draw

From my frail hold of Thee, --

In this alone rejoice with awe;

Thy mighty grasp of me.

Out of that weak unquiet drift

That comes but to depart,

To that pure Heaven my spirit lift

Where Thou unchanging art.

Lay hold of me with Thy strong grasp,

Let Thy Almighty arm

In its embrace my weakness clasp,

And I shall fear no harm.

Thy purpose of eternal good

Let me but surely know;

On this I'll lean, let changing mood

And feeling come or go;

Glad when Thy sunshine fills my soul;

Not lorn when clouds o'ercast;

Since Thou within Thy sure control

Of Love dost hold me fast.