1 God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform:
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
and rides upon the storm.
2 Deep in unfathomable mines,
Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sov'reign will.
3 You fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
4 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
5 His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding ev'ry hour.
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow'r.
6 Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain.
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | God moves in a mysterious way |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1814 |
Topic: | Divine Providence and Government |