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.