All my hope is grounded surely
On the ever-living God,
I can trust His aid securely,
He shall be my highest Good;
For this Rock fears no shock,
And our trust will never mock.

Tell me, if no dread e'er seizes
You, who lean on some frail man?
Can you build on waves and breezes?
Dare you trust your wisest plan?
Soon 'tis past, cannot last,
Nought that earth has standeth fast.

But His goodners still shall flourish
Evermore, nought changes here;
Man and beast His hand doth nourish
Day by day through all the year;
Morn and eve, doth He give
All they need to all that live.

Are we not by gifts surrounded
More than we dare ask of good?
For His mercies are unbounded,
Flowing like a mighty flood;
Earth and air to us bear
Tokens of His loving care.

Let not then His gifts upbraid us,
Who His very Son hath given;
Thank, O thank Him who hath made us
From the dust, yet heirs of heaven.
God is our shield and tower,
Great in wisdom, love, and power.

The Chorale Book for England, 1863