Save me, O Lord, from every foe; In Thee my trust I place, Though all the good that I can do Can ne'er deserve Thy grace. Yet if my God prolong my breath, The saints may profit by't; The saints, the glory of the earth, The men of my delight. Let heathens to their idols haste, And worship wood or stone; But my delightful lot is cast Where the true God is known. His hand provides my constant food, He fills my daily cup; Much am I pleased with present good, But more rejoice in hope. God is my portion and my joy, His counsels are my light; He gives me sweet advice by day, And gentle hints by night. My soul would all her thoughts approve To His all-seeing eye; Not death, nor hell, my hope shall move, While such a Friend is nigh.