Classic Poem

No hand can move in earth or hell
Against the soul Christ loves,
But as directed by his will,
But as his love approves.

Then let him raise his chast'ning hand,
We bend beneath his rod,
Resign his gifts at his command,
And still adore our God!

Silent be all my anxious sears,
My heart no more repine,
Since Jesus in his bosom wears
The flow'r that once was mine!

I'll love my Lord, and trust his word,
Though he thinks fit to frown;
And bless the hand that holds the sword
Which cuts my comforts down.