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.