I may go far, farther than the farthest star, but I will be Thine always! Devotees may come, devotees may go, but I will be Thine always.
I may bound over billows of many lives under sad, dark skies of loneliness, but I will be Thine always.
The whole world may ignore Thee, engrossed as it is in Thy gifts of money, power, and pleasure—mere playthings!—but I will be Thine always. Take everything from me if Thou willst, but, Lord, I will be Thine always.
Death, disease, and every imaginable trial may riddle and rend me, yet, while the embers of memory still flicker, look into my dying eyes: They will mutely say, “I will be Thine always.”
My voice may grow feeble, fail, and forsake me, and yet, with bursting heart and with the silent voice of my soul, I will ever whisper to Thee, “My Lord, I am Thine always!”