1 

God moves in a mysterious way

   His wonders to perform:

He plants His footsteps in the sea,

   And rides upon the storm.

 2 

Deep in unfathomable mines

   Of never-failing skill,

He treasures up His bright designs,

   And works His sovereign will.

 3 

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;

   The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy, and shall break

   In blessings on your head.

 4 

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

   But trust Him for His grace;

Behind a frowning providence

   He hides a smiling face.

 5 

His purpose will ripen fast,

   Unfolding every hour:

The bud may have a bitter taste,

   But sweet will be the flower.

 6 

Blind unbelief is sure to err,

   And scan His work in vain;

God is His own Interpreter,

   And He will make it plain.