Where were thy mind and will and heart When land and ocean over, Yea, even earth's remotest part, The sky was spread to cover? Who made the sun and moon to shine, Who gave herbs, trees, and beasts as thine, Who bid them satisfy thee, And no desire deny thee? Lift up thy head, see everywhere, Above, around, below thee, How God in all for thee His care, And at all times, doth show thee! Thy meat and drink, the clothes dost wear, Did God, ere need thou felt'st, prepare. God, ere thou wast, prepar'd thee Thy mother's milk, that rear'd thee. The raiment that in infancy Thy nakedness did cover, The cradle that receivèd thee, The roof thy young head over, Were all in love prepar'd for thee, Ere yet thine eye was op'd to see The wonders that abounded, The world that thee surrounded. Yet wilt thou walk by thine own light Thy life long, only heeding, Believing nothing but thy sight, Go whither it is leading. In all that thou dost undertake, Thy heart thy counsellor dost make, Unless by it selected, Is ev'ry plan rejected. Behold! how oft and openly God's providence undoeth The plans thy hand so ardently And hopefully pursueth. But it doth happen frequently, That e'en the very things we see The wisest men could never Predict, or think of ever. How oft thy stiff-neck'd self-will hath To bitter need reduc'd thee! When heart and mind deluded, death To take for life, seduc'd thee! And had the Lord thy work and deed Along the path allow'd proceed That thou thyself had'st taken, Lost wert thou and forsaken. He who to us love endless feels, When self-involv'd, then frees us, Ev'n self-inflicted wounds He heals, Guides when astray He sees us. Paternal kindness, tender love, To these His heart doth ever move, This love poor sinners beareth, For whom as sons He careth. Ah! silence doth He often keep, But still the while He blesses, E'en though we tears of anguish weep, Though grief the heart depresses, Although our eager eyes we strain, And seek for light, but seek in vain, And seek deliv'rance ever From woe, but find it never. But God our Lord still onward straight His path pursueth ever, And brings us to heav'n's peaceful gate, Where storms assail us never. What dark was and mysterious here In all God's ways, shall be then clear, His wisdom we'll discover When our life-work is over. Then peace, be still, my troubled breast! And let no grief distress thee, God ever plans for thee the best, His heart is set to bless thee. Thy cause the Saviour ne'er can leave, In this assuredly believe, Tow'rd us He ever yearneth, His ardent love aye burneth.