The Christian 's support.

WHEN I can read my title clear, To mansions in the skies; I'll bid farewell to ev'ry fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.

Should earth against my soul engage, And fiery darts be hurl'd; Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world.

Let cares like a wild deluge come, And storms of sorrow fall; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heav'n, my all.

There I shall bathe my weary soul, In seas of heav'nly rest; And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast.