In seasons of grief to my God I'll repair, When my heart is o'erwhelmed with its sorrow and care; From the ends of the earth unto Thee will I cry, Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I. When Satan, my foe, comes along like a flood, Seeks to drive my poor soul from the fountain of good, I will pray to the Saviour who kindly did die, Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I. And when I have ended my pilgrimage here, Then in Jesus' pure righteousness let me appear, From the swellings of Jordan to Thee will I cry, Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.