Hold Thou my hand; so weak I am, and helpless,
I dare not take one step without Thine aid;
Hold Thou my hand; for then, O loving Savior,
No dread of ill shall make my soul afraid.
Hold Thou my hand; the way is dark before me
Without the sunlight of Thy face divine;
But when by faith I catch its radiant glory,
What heights of joy, what rapturous songs are mine!
Hold Thou my hand, that when I reach the margin
Of that lone river Thou didst cross for me,
A heav’nly light may flash along its waters,
And every wave, like crystal, bright shall be.
– Fanny J. Crosby (1880)