Whatever ills to me betide,
I have within a little store,
So much more dear than all beside,
That never do I wish for more!

Where'er I go, I bear this charm,
My spirit's lowliness to cheer—
A cure for every earthly harm,
A power to dry each earthly tear.

And safe within my inmost heart,
Still cherish'd rests this humble trust;
And by the glow it doth impart,
I feel the immortal hope is just.

Whatever ills to me betide,
I have within a little store,
So much more dear than all beside,
That never do I wish for more!

Where'er I go, I bear this charm,
My spirit's lowliness to cheer—
A cure for every earthly harm,
A power to dry each earthly tear.

And safe within my inmost heart,
Still cherish'd rests this humble trust;
And by the glow it doth impart,
I feel the immortal hope is just.