How happy are the little flock

How happy are the little flockWho safe beneath their guardian RockIn all commotions rest!When war's and tumult's waves run high,Unmoved above the storm they lie,And lodge in Jesus' breast.

The plague, and dearth, and din of war,Our Saviour's swift approach declare,And bid our hearts arise;The signs confirm our trembling hope,While scoffers still in darkness grope,And view them with surprise.

Thy tokens we with joy confess;The war proclaims the Prince of peace;The earthquake speaks thy power;The famine all thy fullness brings;The plague presents thy healing wings,And nature's final hour.

Whatever ills the world befall,A pledge of endless good we call,A sign of Jesus near.His chariot will not long delay;We hear the rumbling wheels, and pray,"Triumphant Lord, appear!"