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225b Martin

Jesus, refuge of my soul, 
Let me to thy bosom fly, 
While the raging billows roll, 
While the tempest still is high: 
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, 
Till the storm of life is past; 
Safe into the haven guide; 
O, receive my soul at last! 

Other refuge have I none; 
Hangs my helpless soul on thee; 
Leave, ah, leave me not alone; 
Still support and comfort me. 
All my trust on Thee is stayed, 
All my help from Thee I bring; 
Cover my defenseless head 
With the shadow of Thy wing. 

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