He Slumbers Not

Fret not thy­self

my heart!

The Lord hath care for thee:

Tho’ de­so­late and poor thou art

He shall thy por­tion be;

His co­ve­nant stands firm and sure;

His mer­cy ever shall en­dure.

He slum­bers not

He will not sleep

All safe thou art

for He doth keep;

Hold firm thy trust

tho’ clouds arise

In God’s good hand thy fu­ture lies.

He com­passes thy path

And know­eth all thy ways;

A pur­pose true of love He hath

Which runs through­out thy days;

He sees the end thou canst not see

And what He wills is best for thee.

To Him a thou­sand years

Are but as yes­ter­day;

An hour

an age

the same ap­pear—

He chang­eth not for aye;

And soon or late

in shade or sun

His plan is wrought

His will is done.

Be si­lent

O my soul!

Let thy com­plain­ing cease;

On Him thy bur­den thou mayst roll

And walk hence­forth in peace;

Where He ab­ides all storms are stilled

And ev­ery need is more than filled.