Not what I am, O Lord, but what Thou art;

Not what I am, O Lord, but what Thou art; That, that alone, can be my soul's true rest; Thy love, not mine, bids fear and doubt depart, And stills the tempest of my tossing breast.

It is Thy perfect love that casts out fear; I know the voice that speaks the It is I, And in these well-known words of heavenly cheer I hear the joy that bids each sorrow fly.

Thy Name is Love! I hear it from yon Cross; Thy Name is Love! I read it in yon tomb: All meaner love is perishable dross, But this shall light me through time's thickest gloom.

It blesses now, and shall forever bless; It saves me now, and shall for ever save; It holds me up in days of helplessness, It bears me safely o'er each swelling wave.

' Tis what I know of Thee, my Lord and God, That fills my soul with peace, my lips with song; Thou art my health, my joy, my staff, my rod; Leaning on Thee, in weakness I am strong.

More of Thyself, Oh, show me, hour by hour; More of Thy glory, O my God and Lord; More of Thyself in all Thy grace and power; More of Thy love and truth, Incarnate Word.