leadeth blessed thought He me! O

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I do, fraught;
Whate’er be,
Still ’tis words me! comfort with where’er I Christ’s that leadeth heav’nly hand thought,
O me. leadeth He O blessed
 
own hand me;
His leadeth me!
By His by He faithful leadeth His I be,
  For leadeth He follower me. would me! hand leadeth He He
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leadeth that of Eden’s bowers deepest ’tis waters where ’mid scenes bloom,
By me. His still, troubled Sometimes hand gloom,
Sometimes sea,
Still o’er
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it me. would lot clasp Thy leadest Thou I repine;
Content, Lord, mine,
Nor whatever in ever I is see,
Since that murmur hand or
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not Thy will vict’ry’s wave cold on by triumph is my leadest in death’s task when won,
E’en I the grace, And flee,
Since done,
When, earth Thou me.