I will not be weary, Tho’ trials may come, And troubles before me I see, But count them as nothing Compared with the love, Of Jesus, my Savior, to me. Refrain I’ll sing of His love, Of His wonderful love, Tho’ billows like mountains may roll; I fear not the tempest, I dread not the storm, For O, there is joy in my soul. I cannot be weary When He is my rest; Whate’er my temptations may be, I’ll trust in His promise Because He has said: My grace is sufficient for thee. Refrain There’s joy that no language Or thought can express, It comes from His presence divine; And when in His likeness At last I awake, Its fullness I know will be mine. Refrain