1 And art thou, gracious Master, gone,
A mansion to prepare for me?
Shall I behold thee on thy throne?
Shall I forever dwell with thee?
Then let the world approve or blame,
I'll triumph in thy glorious name.

2 Should I, to gain the world's applause,
Or to escape its sharpest frown,
Refuse to countenance thy cause,
And make thy people's lot my own,
What shame would fill me in that day
When thou thy glory shalt display!

3 And what is man, or what his smile?
The terror of his anger what?
Like grass he flourishes awhile,
But soon his place shall know him not;
Through fear of such an one, shall I
The Lord of heaven and earth deny?

4 No; let the world cast out my name,
And vile account me, if it will;
If to confess the Lord be shame,
I purpose to be viler still:
For thee, my God, I all resign,
Content, if I can call thee mine.