W.O. Cushing
OH, safe to the Rock that is higher than I,
My soul in its conflicts and sorrows would fly;
So sinful, so weary, Thine, Thine would I be,
Thou blest Rock of Ages, I’m hiding in Thee.
Hiding in Thee, hiding in Thee,
Thou blest Rock ofAges, I’m hiding in Thee.
2
In the calm of the noontide, in sorrow’s lone hour,
In times when temptation casts o’er me its power;
In the tempests of life, on its wide, heaving sea.
Thou blest Rock of Ages, I’m hiding in Thee.
3
How oft in the conflict, when pressed by the foe,
I have fled to my Refuge and breathed out my woe;
How often, when trials like sea-billows roll,
Have I hidden in Thee, O Thou Rock of my soul.
