  (illuminated capital) Why dread the future, trembling one, Since whatsoe’er the griefs it bring, A Father’s voice pronounced the fate It bears upon its rapid wing? Canst thou not trust thy earthly hopes To Him in whom thy soul confides; Nor cast thy cares upon thy Lord When angels whisper “God provides.” “Why for the morrow take ye thought?” The God of truth and mercy said; His gracious arm supports thee now, His sheltering wing is o’er thee spread; He ne’er forgets His human pangs— The stricken soul, the tortured limb— Nor gives a moment’s needless pain To those who love and trust in Him! What dost thou fear, what dost thou dread? The rushing wind—the billow’s roar? The gale, though rude, by love is sent To speed thy course to Heaven’s shore. More fatal were a death-like calm; The stormy voyage not long can last, The Saviour’s welcome overpays A thousand-fold the perils past. Fear not,—what should God’s children fear? The dreaded clouds may roll away; Unnumbered mercies oft received Should strengthen faith to trust to-day. Enough—without the Lord’s consent None from thy head one hair can sever; Enough—thou art the Almighty’s care; Afflicted, but forsaken never! |
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