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

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