A Lancashire Doxology

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow."
Praise Him who sendeth joy and woe:
The Lord who takes, — the Lord who gives, —
O praise Him, all that dies, and lives.

He opens and He shuts his hand,
But why, we cannot understand:
Pours and dries up His mercies' flood,
And yet is still All-perfect Good.

We fathom not the mighty plan,
The mystery of God and man;
We women, when afflictions come,
We only suffer and are dumb.

And when, the tempest passing by,
He gleams out, sun-like, through our sky,
We look up, and through black clouds riven,
We recognise the smile of Heaven.

Ours is no wisdom of the wise,
We have no deep philosophies:
Childlike we take both kiss and rod,
For he who loveth knoweth God.