Lord, my weak thought in vain would climb
To search the star-ry vault pro-found;
In vain would wing her flight sub-lime
To find cre-a-tion's ut-most bound.
But weak-er yet that thought must prove
To search Thy great e-ter-nal plan,
Thy sov-ereign coun-sels, born of love
Long a-ges ere the world be-gan.
When my dim rea-son would de-mand
Why that, or this, thou dost or-dain,
By some vast deep I seem to stand,
Whose se-crets I must ask in vain.
When doubts dis-turb my trou-bled breast,
And all is dark as night to me,
Here, as on sol-id rock, I rest--
That so it seem-eth good to Thee.
Be this my joy, that ev-er-more
Thou ru-lest all things at Thy will;
Thy sov-ereign wis-dom I a-dore,
And calm-ly, sweet-ly, trust Thee still.