Words by William Cowper, 1774 • Tune: Dundee, Scottish Psalter, 1615

Found in The Old Guard

 

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

  • All
  • According To The Pattern
  • A Girl To Come Home To
  • April Gold
  • Astra
  • A Voice In The Wilderness
  • Beauty For Ashes
  • Because Of Stephen
  • Beggarman
  • By Way Of The Silverthorns
  • Crimson Mountain
  • Her Wedding Garment
  • Homing
  • Katherine's Yesterday
  • Life Out Of Death
  • Lone Point
  • Marcia Schuyler
  • Miss Lavinia's Call
  • Partners
  • Rainbow Cottage
  • Silver Wings
  • Spice Box
  • Stranger Within The Gates
  • The Best Birthday
  • The Christmas Bride
  • The City Of Fire
  • The Girl From Montana
  • The Gold Shoe
  • The Man Of The Desert
  • The Minister's Son
  • The Old Guard
  • The Story Of A Whim
  • The Strange God
  • The Substitute Guest
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