Full of won­der, full of art,
Full of wis­dom, full of pow­er,
Full of kindn­ess, grace, and heart,
Full of com­fort flow­ing o’er,
Full of won­der, still I say,
Is love’s chaste and gen­tle sway.

Those who’ve ne­ver met be­fore,
Ne’er each oth­er known nor seen,
Never in the id­lest hour
Thus em­ployed their thoughts have been,
Yet whose hearts and hands in love
Tieth God who lives above!

His child doth this Fa­ther guide,
That one train­eth His each day,
Each their spe­cial wind and tide
Speed upon their se­pa­rate way,
When the time ap­point­ed’s there,
Lo! they’re a well-mat­ed pair!

Here grows up a pru­dent son,
And a no­ble daugh­ter there;
One will be the oth­er’s crown,
One the oth­er’s rest from care
Each will be the oth­er’s light,
But from both ’tis hid­den quite,

Till it’s pleas­ing in His sight
Who the world holds in His pow­er,
To all giv­eth what is right
Freely in th’ap­point­ed hour;
Then ap­pears in word and deed
What hath been by Him de­creed.

Then Aha­sue­rus’ eye
First doth qui­et Es­ther see;
To where Sa­ra peace­ful­ly
Dwells, To­bi­as lead­eth He;
David then, with pli­ant will,
Fetcheth prud­ent Abi­gail.

Jacob flees from Es­au’s face,
And he meet­eth Ra­chel fair;
Joseph in a for­eign place
Serves, and win­neth As­nath there;
Moses did with Jeth­ro stay,
And bore Zip­po­rah away.

Each one tak­eth, each doth find
What the Lord doth choose for him;
What in Hea­ven is de­signed,
Comes to pass on earth in time.
And what­ev­er hap­pens thus
Ordered wise­ly is for us.

This or that might bet­ter be,
Oft this fool­ish thought is ours;
But as mid­night ut­ter­ly
Fails to be like noon­day’s hours,
So the fee­ble mind of man
God’s great wis­dom can­not scan.

Whom God joins to­ge­ther live,
What the best is know­eth He,
Our thoughts on­ly can de­ceive,
His from all de­fects are free;
God’s work stand­eth firm for aye,
When all other must de­cay.

Look at pi­ous child­ren who
Entered have the ho­ly state,
How well for them God doth do,
See what joys up­on them wait;
To their do­ings God doth send
Evermore a ha­ppy end.

Of their vir­tues the re­nown
Blossometh for ev­er­more,
As a sha­dow when is gone
Of all oth­er love the flow­er;
When truth fail­eth ev­ery­where,
Theirs still bloom­eth fresh and fair,

Fresh their love is ev­er­more,
Ever doth its youth re­new,
Love their ta­ble co­vers o’er,
Sweetens all they say and do.
Love their hearts aye giv­eth rest,
When they’re bur­dened and op­pressed.

Though things oft go crook­ed­ly,
Even then this love is still,
Can the cross bear pa­tient­ly,
Thinking ’tis the Fa­ther’s will.
From this thought doth com­fort taste,
Better days will come at last.

Meanwhile streams of bless­ing gives
God with boun­ty rich and free,
Mind and body He re­lieves,
And the house too found­eth He;
What is small and men des­pise,
Makes He great and mul­ti­plies.

And when all is ov­er here
That the Lord de­signs in love,
For His faith­ful child­ren dear,
Taketh them to courts above,
And with great de­light in grace
Folds them in His warm em­brace.

Now ’tis ev­er full of heart,
Full of com­fort flow­ing o’er,
Full of won­der, full of art,
Full of wis­dom, full of pow­er,
Full of won­der, still I say,
Is love’s chaste and gen­tle sway.