S.M.

1 THOU doest all things well,
God only wise and true!
My days and nights alternate tell
Of mercies always new.

2 With daily toil oppressed,
I sink in welcome sleep;
Or wake in darkness and unrest,
Yet patient vigil keep.

3 Soon finds each fevered day,
And each chill night, its bourn;
Nor zeal need droop, nor hope decay,
Ere rest, or light return.

4 But be the night-watch long,
And sore the chastening rod, -
Thou art my health, my sun, my song,
My glory, and my God!

5 Thy smiling face lights mine;
If veiled it makes me sad;
Even tears in darkness, starlike, shine,
And morning finds me glad.

6 For weeping, wakeful eyes
Instinctive look above
And catch, through openings in the skies,
Thy beams, unslumbering Love!

7 Hours spent with pain - and thee
Lost hours have never seemed;
No! those are lost, which but might be
From earth for heaven redeemed.

8 Its limit, its relief,
Its hallowed issues, tell,
That, though thou cause thy servant grief,
Thou doest all things well!


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