Hiding Place

In deepest, darkest fear I ran to hide.
Fast did my feet and my heart in rhythm pound,
Breaking a dead silence the only sound,
‘Til in dread despair to you, Lord, I cried.
Your face pure light, and your embrace so wide!
Besides you, God, there is no Solid Ground;
Except beneath your wings, no Refuge found.
All else is sand, washed away by the tide.
Sweet Lord, I run to you, my Hiding Place;
To your nail-scarred hand alone do I cling.
Let me forever look into your face,
With saints and angels your glory to sing.
May I honour you, my Liberator;
Live and die for you, Beautiful Saviour!