3 While place I seek, or place I shun, The soul finds happiness in none; But with my God to guide my way, ’Tis equal joy to go or stay. 4 Could I be cast where thou art not, That were indeed a dreadful lot; But regions none remote I call, Secure of finding God in all. 68 L. M. 6 lines. Thy will be done. He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower; Alike they’re needful for the flower; And joys and tears alike are sent To give the soul fit nourishment: As comes to me or cloud or sun, Father, thy will, not mine, be done! 2 Can loving children e’er reprove With murmurs whom they trust and love? Creator, I would ever be A trusting, loving child to thee: As comes to me or cloud or sun, Father, thy will, not mine, be done! 3 O ne’er will I at life repine! Enough that thou hast made it mine; When fall the shadow cold of death, I yet will sing, with parting breath— As comes to me or shade or sun, Father, thy will, not mine, be done! 69 L. M. The wisdom of God. Wait, O my soul, thy Maker’s will; Tumultuous passions, all be still! Nor let a murmuring thought arise; His ways are just, his counsels wise. 2 He in the thickest darkness dwells, Performs his work, the cause conceals; But, though his methods are unknown, Judgment and truth support his throne. 3 In heaven, and earth, and air, and seas, He executes his firm decrees; And by his saints it stands confest, That what he does is ever best. 4 Wait then, my soul, submissive wait, Prostrate before his awful seat; And, ’midst the terrors of his rod, Trust in a wise and gracious God. 70 L. M. 6 lines. Psalm 23. The Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd’s care; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye: My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend. 2 When in the sultry glebe I faint, Or on the thirsty mountains pant, To fertile vales and dewy meads My weary, wandering steps he leads, Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, Amid the verdant landscape flow. 3 Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious, lonely wilds I stray, His bounty shall my pains beguile; The barren wilderness shall smile, With lively greens and herbage crowned, And streams shall murmur all around. 4 Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord! art with me still; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dismal shade.