On His Birthday, Hymn 35

Away my needless fears,
And doubts no longer mine!
A ray of heavenly light appears,
A messenger Divine:
Thrice comfortable hope
That calms my stormy breast,
My Father's hand prepares the cup,
And what He wills is best.

He knows whate'er I want,
He sees my helplessness,
And always readier is to grant
Than I to ask His grace:
My fearful heart He reads,
Secures my soul from harms,
And underneath His mercy spreads
Its everlasting arms.

Here is firm footing, here,
My soul, is solid rock,
To break the waves of grief and fear,
And trouble's rudest shock:
This only can sustain
When earth and heaven remove
O turn thee to thy rest again,
Thy God's eternal love.

To God again I turn,
And shelter in His breast,
His will (let me rejoice or mourn)
His will is surely best;
His skill infallible,
His providential grace,
His power, and truth, that never fail,
Shall order all my ways.

The random blows of chance,
The being I defy,
Whose life's minutest circumstance
Is subject to His eye:
He hears the ravens call;
Nor can His children grieve.
Nor can a worthless sparrow fall
Without my Father's leave.

Why then was I cast down,
And troubled without cause,
And trembled at the creature's frown,
And fear'd the threaten'd loss?
Shall I mistrust His care
My blessings to defend,
Or dread (who cannot lose an hair)
To lose a bosom-friend?

If what I wish is good,
And suits the will Divine,
By earth and hell in vain withstood,
I know it shall be mine:
Still let them counsel take
To frustrate His decree,
They cannot keep a blessing back
By heaven design'd for me.

If what my soul requires
Evil to me will prove,
His love shall cross my fond desires,
His kindly jealous love:
But would I for His sake
With every rival part,
My life, my all, my friend give back?
He knows, He knows my heart.

Here then I doubt no more,
But in His pleasure rest,
Whose wisdom, love, and truth, and power.
Engage to make me blest:
To' accomplish His design
The creatures all agree,
And all the attributes Divine
Are now at work for me.

To know my final state
I at His footstool bow,
Who tells my soul THE HAND OF FATE
Is ON THE CURTAIN NOW!
His will the veil withdraws,
And while I lift my eyes,
Discovers there a glorious cross,
And wraps me to the skies,