Scripture Verse

All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28


John Newton

Words: John New­ton, Ol­ney Hymns (Lon­don: W. Ol­iv­er, 1779), Book 3, num­ber 37. I will trust and not be afraid.

Music: Ly­ons at­trib­ut­ed to Jo­hann M. Hay­dn (1737–1806). Ar­ranged by Will­iam Gar­di­ner, Sac­red Me­lo­dies (Lon­don: 1815) (🔊 pdf nwc).

Johann M. Haydn

Origin of the Hymn

A la­dy wrote from the Ci­ta­del of Cai­ro to Mr. Stead, It is the hymn that I love best of the hun­dreds that I know; it has helped me scores of times in the dark days of my life, and has ne­ver failed to in­spire me with fresh hope and con­fi­dence when life looked dark and drea­ry; and it is dear to me from as­so­ci­a­tions with the mem­o­ry of the best of fa­thers.

To him, in his ma­ny and sore trou­bles, it was a source of com­fort and help, and, I be­lieve, was to him a sort of link by which he held on to God. To me the words are not dog­ge­rel at all, they are just love­ly. I oft­en go about sing­ing them when alone to help me on the way.

Telford, p. 301


Begone unbelief,
My Savior is near,
And for my relief
Will surely appear:
By prayer let me wrestle,
And He wilt perform,
With Christ in the vessel,
I smile at the storm.

Though dark be my way,
Since He is my guide,
’Tis mine to obey,
’Tis His to provide;
Though cisterns be broken,
And creatures all fail,
The Word He has spoken
Shall surely prevail.

His love in time past
Forbids me to think
He’ll leave me at last
In trouble to sink;
Each sweet Ebenezer
I have in review,
Confirms His good pleasure
To help me quite through.

Determined to save,
He watched o’er my path,
When Satan’s blind slave,
I sported with death;
And can He have taught me
To trust in His name,
And thus far have brought me,
Tto put me to shame?

Why should I complain
Of want or distress,
Temptation or pain?
He told me no less:
The heirs of salvation,
I know from His Word,
Through much tribulation
Must follow their Lord.

How bitter that cup,
No heart can conceive,
Which He drank quite up,
That sinners might live!
His way was much rougher,
And darker than mine;
Did Jesus thus suffer,
And shall I repine?

Since all that I meet
Shall work for my good,
The bitter is sweet,
The medicine is food;
Though painful at present,
Wilt cease before long,
And then, O! how pleasant,
The conqueror’s song!