1 Amidst ten thousand dangers,
Which everywhere abound,
The pilgrims and the strangers
Alone secure are found;
For on their Lord they’re waiting,
They seek him night and day;
His aid they’re supplicating
In his appointed way.
2 [How signal are the blessings
My Saviour has bestowed!
He taught me wisdom’s lessons,
When I had lost the road.
From death he has me raisèd,
By his almighty power;
Let his great name be praisèd,
Both now and evermore.]
3 Through Christ, the Mediator,
To God access we find;
The Spirit’s own dictator,
Who knows the Father’s mind.
Thus through this world of trouble
His saints in safety go;
They count the world a bubble,
All vanity below.
Source: A Selection of Hymns for Public Worship. In four parts (10th ed.) (Gadsby's Hymns) #292