The Raven He Feedeth

In ten­der com­pass­ion and won­der­ful love

The Fa­ther looks down from on high;

He know­eth the rav­en hath need of its food

And hear­eth in mer­cy its cry.

The rav­en He feed­eth

then why should I fear?

To the heart of the Fa­ther His child­ren are dear;

So

if the way dark­ens or storms ga­ther o’er

I’ll simp­ly look up­ward and trust Him the more.

His arm is abun­dant­ly able to save

His eye is a guide to my feet;

Since love sought and found me

I con­stant­ly dwell

With Him in com­pan­ion­ship sweet.

No need have I ever to trou­ble my breast

Or fear what the mor­row may bring;

The heart of the Fa­ther is plan­ning my way

And I am the child of a king.