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Text: | Providence |
1 Thy ways, O Lord! with wise design,
Are fram'd upon thy throne above,
And every dark or bending line,
Meets in the center of thy love.
2 With feeble light, and half obscure,
Poor mortals thy arrangements view;
Not knowing that they all are sure,
And the mysterious just and true.
3 Thy flock, thy own peculiar care,
Though now they seem to roam uney'd
Are led or driven only where
They best and safest may abide.
4 They neither know nor trace the way:
But whilst they trust thy guardian eye,
Their feet shall ne'er to ruin stray,
Nor shall the weakest fail or die.
5 My favor'd soul shall meekly learn,
To lay her reason at thy throne;
Too weak thy secrets to discern,
I'll trust thee for my guide alone.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Thy ways, O Lord! with wise design |
Title: | Providence |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1845 |
Topic: | Of God: Providence of God |