1 Peace, 'tis the Lord Jehovah's Hand
That blast's our Joys in Death;
Changes the Visage once so dear
And gathers back the Breath.

2 'Tis he, the Potentate supreme
Of all the Worlds above,
Whose steady Counsels wisely rule,
Nor from their Purpose move.

3 'Tis he, whose Justice might demand
Our Souls a Sacrifice;
Yet scatters with unwearied Hand,
A thousand rich Supplies.

4 Our Covenant GOD and Father he,
In CHRIST our bleeding LORD;
Whose Grace can heal the bursting Heart
With one reviving Word.

5 Fair Garlands of immortal Bliss
He weaves for every Brow,
And shall rebellious Passions rise,
When he corrects us now;

6 Silent we own Jehovah's Name,
We kiss the scourging Hand;
And yield our Comforts and our Life
To thy Supreme Command.