By the Poor Widow’s Oil and Meal

By the poor wi­dow’s oil and meal

Elijah was sus­tained;

Though small the stock it last­ed well

For God the store main­tained.

It seemed as if from day to day

They were to eat and die;

But still

though in a sec­ret way

He sent a fresh sup­ply.

Thus to His poor He still will give

Just for the pre­sent hour;

But for to­mor­row they must live

Upon His word and pow­er.

No barn or store­house they pos­sess

On which they can de­pend;

Yet have no cause to fear dis­tress

For Je­sus is their friend.

Then let not doubts your mind as­sail

Remember

God has said

The cruse and bar­rel shall not fail;

My peo­ple shall be fed.

And thus though faint it oft­en seems

He keeps their grace al­ive;

Supplied by His re­fresh­ing streams

Their dy­ing hopes re­vive.

Though in our­selves we have no stock

The Lord is nigh to save;

His door flies op­en when we knock

And ’tis but ask and have.