Lord, my weak thought in vain would climb
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Lord, my weak thought in vain would climbTo search the starry vault profound;In vain would wing her flight sublime,To find creation's outmost bound.
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But weaker yet that thought must proveTo search thy great eternal plan,—Thy sovereign counsels, born of loveLong ages ere the world began.
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When my dim reason would demandWhy that, or this, thou dost ordain,By some vast deep I seem to stand,Whose secrets I must ask in vain.
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When doubts disturb my troubled breast,And all is dark as night to me,Here, as on solid rock, I rest;That so it seemeth good to thee.
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Be this my joy, that evermoreThou rulest all things at thy will:Thy sovereign wisdom I adore,And calmly, sweetly, trust thee still.