284 Thy way and all thy sorrows,

1 Thy way and all thy sorrows, Give thou into His hand, His gracious care unfailing, Who doth the heavens command; Their course and path He giveth To clouds and air and wind: A way thy feet may follow He, too, for thee will find. 2 On Him be thy reliance, If thou would'st prosper well: To make thy work enduring Thy mind on Him must dwell. God yieldeth naught to sorrow And self-tormenting care: Naught, naught with Him availeth, No power save that of prayer. 3 Thy truth and grace, O Father, Behold and surely know, Both what is good and evil, For mortal man below: And whatsoe'er Thou choosest Thou dost, great God, fulfill, And into being bringest Whate'er is in Thy will. 4 Thy way is ever open; Thou dost on naught depend; Thine act is only blessing, Thy path light without end. Thy work can no man hinder, Thy purpose none can stay; Since Thou to bless Thy children Through all dost make a way. 5 In vain the powers of darkness Thy will, O God, oppose: High over all undoubting, Thy pleasure onward goes: Whate'er Thy will resolveth, Whate'er Thou dost intend, Its destined work performeth True to its aim and end. 6 Then hope, my feeble spirit, And be thou undismayed: God helps in every trial, And makes thee unafraid. Await God's time with pleasure, Then shall thine eyes behold The sun of joy and gladness His brightest beams unfold. 7 Arise, arise! thy sadness, Thy cares send far away; Away each thought afflicting That on the heart doth prey. 8 Leave all to His direction: In wisdom He doth reign; Thy wonder far exceeding, He will His course maintain: So He as Him beseemeth His wonder-working skill, Shall put away the sorrows, That now thy spirit fill. 9 Awhile His consolation He will to thee deny, And seem as though in spirit He far from thee would fly; Awhile distress and anguish Shall compass thee around, Nor to thy supplication An answering voice be found. 10 But if thou ne'er forsake Him, Thou shalt deliverance find; Behold all unexpected, He will thy soul unbind. He from thy heavy burden Will soon thy heart set free: Yea, from that weight no evil Hath yet befallen thee. 11 Thou child of truth, how blessed! A conqueror soon shalt be, With songs of glad thanksgiving A crown await thee. To thee the palm triumphal By God's own hand is giv'n, Thine, to His name who saved thee, To sing the songs of heaven. 12 Give, Lord, this consummation To all our heart's distress, Our hands, our feet, O strengthen, In death our spirits bless. Thy truth and Thy protection Forevermore we pray: With these in heavenly glory Shall end our certain way.