1 Oh let my trembling soul be still,
While darkness veils the sky,
And wait Thy wise, Thy holy will,
Wrapped yet in mystery:
I cannot, Lord, Thy purpose see;
But all is well, since ruled by Thee.
2 Thus, trusting in Thy love, I tread
The path of duty on;
What though some cherished joys are fled,
Some flattering dreams are gone?
Yet purer, nobler joys remain:
Why should my spirit then complain?
Source: The Book of Worship #243