I. Peace, my complaining, doubting heart,
Ye busy cares be still;
Adore the just, the sov'reign Lord,
Nor murmur at his will.
II. Unerring wisdom guides his hand;
Nor dares my guilty fear,
Amid the sharpest pains I feel,
Pronounce his hand severe.
III. To soften ev'ry painful stroke,
Indulgent mercy bends;
And unrepining when I plead,
His gracious ear attends.
IV. Let me reflect with humble awe
Whene'er my heart complains,
Compar'd with what my sins deserve,
How easy are my pains!
V. Yes Lord, I own thy sov'reign hand,
thou just, and wise, and kind;
Be ev'ry anxious thought supprest,
And all my soul resign'd.
VI. But oh! indulge this only wish,
This boon I must implore;
Assure my soul, that thou art mine,
My God, I ask no more.
Source: Poems on Subjects Chiefly Devotional, Vol. 1 #148