89
C. M.
Providence.
Let the whole race of creatures lie
In dust before the Lord!
Whate’er his powerful hand has formed,
He governs with a word.
2 Ten thousand ages ere the skies
Were into motion brought,
All the long years and worlds to come
Stood present to his thought.
3 There’s not a sparrow, or a worm,
O’erlooked in his decrees:
He raises monarchs to a throne,
Or sinks with equal ease.
4 If light attend the course I go,
’Tis he provides the rays;
And ’tis his hand that hides the sun,
If darkness cloud my days.
5 Trusting his wisdom and his love,
I would not wish to know
What, in the book of his decrees,
Awaits me here below.
6 Be this alone my fervent prayer:
Whate’er my lot may be,
Or joys, or sorrows—may they form
My soul for heaven and thee!
Watts.