Friday, August 6, 2010

"God Moves In A Mysterious Way"

Ye fearful Saints, fresh courage take;


The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy and shall break

In blessings on your head.


His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding ev’ry hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.





Blind unbelief is sure to err

And scan his works in vain;

God is his own interpreter,

And he will make it plain