Joseph H. Gilmore, 1862
[Key: Ab]

 

Verse 1
He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
O words with heav’nly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be,
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
By His own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me.

 

Verse 2
Sometimes ‘mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,
By waters calm, o’er troubled sea,
Still ’tis His hand that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
By His own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me.

 

Verse 3
Lord, I would clasp Thy hand in mine,
Nor ever murmur nor repine;
Content, whatever lot I see,
Since ’tis my God that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
By His own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me.

 

Verse 4
And when my task on earth is done,
When, by Thy grace, the vict’rys won,
E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee,
Since God through Jordan leadeth me.
He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
By His own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me.