How blessed is the little flock,
Whom Jesus calls His own!
He is their Savior and their rock,
They trust in Him alone;
They walk by faith and hope and love,
But they shall dwell with Him above,
When hope and faith shall pass away,
And love shall last for aye.

My Jesus, am I in that band,
And wilt Thou call me Thine?
Do I among the chosen stand
Whose lamps so brightly shine?
O let me not lie down to rest
Till this I know, my Savior blest,
Till I can say, by grace restored:
Thou know’st I love Thee, Lord!

And even if with tears it be,
That this to Thee I say,
Yet Thou in grace wilt look on me
And wipe my tears away;
Yea, when but Thou who all dost know,
In me canst find Thy love below
And own me Thine, then well is me,–
My all I have in Thee.