In truth, He who created thee, His glory in thee showing, Hath long ago in His decree Determin'd--all foreknowing-- What good for thee And thine will be, In faithfulness he'll give it. Curb thou thy will, Wait! be thou still, To His good pleasure leave it.
Whate'er to send, seems good to God, 'Twill be at last refreshing, Altho' thou call'st it cross and load 'Tis fraught with richest blessing. Wait patiently, His grace to thee He'll speedily discover. All grief and fear Shall disappear Like mist the hills spread over.
The field, unless the storm rage high, Its ripe fruits yieldeth never, So men were ruin'd utterly If all were prosp'rous ever. Though health it gives, And thus relieves, The bitter aloe paineth; So must the heart With anguish smart, Ere it to health attaineth.
My God! my God! into Thy hand I joyfully now yield me, Keep me, a stranger in the land, E'en to the end, Lord! shield me. Deal with me now As well dost know, That I may profit by it; Then more and more Thy glorious pow'r, Lord! show, and magnify it.
Wilt cause Thy sun on me to shine, With pleasure, Lord, I'll share it; Should trial or mischance be mine, Then patiently I'll bear it. Of life the door Should it before Me open here stand ever, Where Thou lead'st me, I'll joyfully Go with Thee, shrinking never.
Should I along the path of death, Through the dark vale be treading, 'Tis well, 'tis the appointed path, E'en there Thine eyes are leading. My Shepherd! Thou Art all below To such an issue bringing, That I to Thee, Eternally, Shall songs of praise be singing.
COMMIT THY WAY UNTO THE LORD, TRUST ALSO IN HIM, AND HE SHALL BRING IT TO PASS.--PSALM XXXVII. 5.
Commit whatever grieves thee At heart, and all thy ways, To Him who never leaves thee, On whom creation stays. Who freest courses maketh For clouds, and air, and wind, And care who ever taketh A path for thee to find.
The Lord thou must repose on If thou wouldst prosper sure, His work must ever gaze on If thine is to endure. By anxious care and grieving, By self-consuming pain, God is not mov'd to giving; By pray'r must thou obtain.
Thy grace that ever floweth, O Father! what is good, Or evil, ever knoweth, To mortal flesh and blood. What to Thine eye all-seeing, And to Thy counsel wise Seems good, doth into being, O mighty Prince, arise!