This stanza, the last of her little poem on the “Eternal Fitness of Jesus,” came to her when, returning from an exciting service, filled with thoughts of her unworthiness and of the glorious beauty of her Saviour, she had turned down a sheltered lane to pray alone. There on her knees in communion with God her soul felt the spirit of the sacred song. By the time she reached home she had formed it into words.
The first and second stanzas, written later, are these:
Great Author of salvation
And providence for man,
Thou rulest earth and heaven
With Thy far-reaching plan.
Today or on the morrow,
Whatever woe betide,
Grant us Thy strong assistance,
Within Thy hand to hide.