Classic Poem

Yet will I trust! in all my fears,
Thy mercy, gracious Lord, appears,
To guide me through this vale of tears,
And be my strength;
Thy mercy guides the ebb and flow
Of health and joy, or pain and wo,
To wean my heart from all below
To Thee at length.

Yes, welcome pain, which Thou hast sent;
Yes, farewell, blessings, Thou hast lent;
With Thee alone I rest content,
For Thou art Heav'n:
My trust reposes, safe and still,
On the wise goodness of Thy will,
Grateful for earthly good—or ill,
Which Thou hast giv'n.

O, blessed Friend! O, blissful thought!
With happiest consolation fraught
Trust Thee I may, I will, I ought;
To doubt, were sin;
Then let whatever storms arise,
Their Ruler sits above the skies,
And lifting unto him mine eyes,
'Tis calm within.

Danger may threaten, foes molest,
Poverty brood, disease infest,
Yea, torn affections wound the breast,
For one sad hour.
But Faith looks to her home on high,
Hope casts around a cheerful eye,
And Love puts all the terrors by
With gladdening power.