Jesus, immutably the same,

Jesus, immutably the same,
Thou true and living Vine!
Around thy all-supporting stem,
My feeble arms I'd twine.

I can do nothing without thee;
My strength is wholly thine;
Withered and barren should I be,
If severed from the Vine.

Quickened by thee, and kept alive,
I'd flourish and bear fruit;
My life I'd from thy sap derive,
My vigour from thy root.

Each moment watered by thy care,
And fenced with power divine;
Fruit to eternal life would bear,
The feeblest branch of thine.