Christ’s precious blood has ransomed me,
From Satan’s mighty hand,
And through each day, where’er I stray,
‘Tis by His grace I stand.
I cleave to Him with all my heart,
And take Him all my care,
For well I know the mighty foe
Can never harm me there.
Be this my joy, whate’er the trial,
Of prison, fire or sword;
Whatever foes beset my path,
My Refuge is the Lord.
ML 06/07/1936