44. Wait, O my soul, thy Maker's will

1 Wait, O my soul, thy Maker's will,
Tumultuous passions all be still;
Nor let a murm'ring thought arise;
His ways are just, his councils wise.

2 He in the thickest darkness dwells,
Performs his work, the cause conceals;
But tho' his methods are unknown,
Judgment and truth support his throne.

3 In heav'n, and earth, and air, and sea,
He executes his firm decree;
And by his saints it stands confest,
That what he does is ever best.

4 Wait then, my soul, submissive wait,
Prostrate before his awful seat;
And 'midst the terrors of his rod,
Trust in a wise and gracious God.

Text Information
First Line: Wait, O my soul, thy Maker's will
Meter: L. M.
Language: English
Publication Date: 1812
Scripture:
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