1 Lord, how Mysterious are thy Ways!
How blind are we, how mean our Praise!
Thy Steps can Mortal Eyes explore?
'Tis ours to wonder, and adore.
2 Thy deep Decrees from Creature Sight,
Are hid in Shades of awfull Night;
Amid the Lines, with curious Eye,
Nor Angels minds presume to pry.
3 Great GOD, I would not ask to see,
What in futurity shall be:
If Light and Bliss attend my Days,
Then let my future Hours be Praise.
4 Is Darkness and Distress my Share?
Then let me trust thy guardian Care;
Enough for me, if Love Divine
At length thro' ev'ry Cloud shall shine.
5 Yet this my Soul desires to know,
Be this my only Wish below;
That Christ is mine!--this great Request
Grant, bounteous God--and I am blest.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Lord, how Mysterious are thy Ways! |
Title: | The Mysteries of Providence |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Topic: | Supplicatory Hymns |
Notes: | Public Domain. |