1 Why, O my heart, these anxious cares
Why these tumultuous sick'ning fears?
Why thus all pensive and forlorn,
Dost thou thy thick'ning troubles mourn,

2 When threat'ning storms around thee rise
And louring tempest spread the skies,
On God, my soul, thy burden cast,
And seek in him a peaceful rest.

3 If falshood and deciet abound,
And envy's darts in secret wound,
If earthly springs of comfort dry,
And ev'ry blooming joy should die;

4 Silent I'll bear thy chast'ning rod,
Thy just displeasure, O my GOD!
On thee I'll wait with eager eyes,
To thee my pray'r with hope shall rise.

5 Yes, I shall hear thy cheering voice;
In thee my soul shall yet rejoice;
Thou wilt reveal thy smiling face,
And hence these gloomy horrors chace,

6 Thou art my Saviour, thou my GOD!
Thy grace will I proclaim aborad;
That grace which bears my guilt away,
And turns the blackest night to day.