Be not o'er-mastered by thy pain,
But cling to God, thou shalt not fall;
The floods sweep over thee in vain,
Thou yet shalt rise above them all;
For when thy trial seems too hard to bear
Lo! God, thy King, hath granted all thy prayer.
Be thou content.
Why art thou full of anxious fear
How thou shalt be sustain'd and fed?
He who hath made and placed thee here