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 noon-tide resort with Thy sheep,
To feed on the pastures of love?
For why in the valley of death should I weep,
Alone in the wilderness rove?
O why should I wander an alien from Thee?
Or cry in the desert for bread?
My foes would rejoice when my sorrows they see,
And smile at the tears I have shed.