Leave God to or­der all thy ways,
And hope in Him what­e’er be­tide,
Thou’lt find Him in the ev­il days
Thy all-suf­fi­cient strength and guide;
Who trusts in God’s un­chang­ing love,
Builds on the rock that naught can move.

What can these anx­ious cares avail,
These never ceas­ing moans and sighs?
What can it help us to be­wail
Each pain­ful moment as it flies?
Our cross and tri­als do but press
The hea­vi­er for our bit­ter­ness.

Only thy rest­less heart keep still,
And wait in cheer­ful hope; content
To take what­e’er His gra­cious will,
His all dis­cern­ing love hath sent;
Doubt not our in­most wants are known
To Him who chose us for His own.

He knows when joy­ful hours are best,
He sends them as He sees it meet;
When thou hast borne the fie­ry test,
And now art freed from all de­ceit,
He comes to thee all un­aware,
And makes thee own His lov­ing care.

Nor, in the heat of pain and strife,
Think God hath cast thee off un­heard,
And that the man, whose pros­per­ous life
Thou en­vi­est, is of Him preferred;
Time pass­es and much change doth bring,
And sets a bound to ev­ery­thing.

All are alike be­fore His face;
’Tis ea­sy to our God most High
To make the rich man poor and base,
To give the poor man wealth and joy.
True won­ders still by Him are wrought,
Who set­teth up, and brings to naught.

Sing, pray, and swerve not from His ways,
But do thine own part faith­ful­ly,
Trust His rich pro­mis­es of grace,
So shall they be ful­filled in thee;
God ne­ver yet for­sook at need
The soul that trusted Him in­deed.