1 

Begone, unbelief,

   My Savior is near,

And for my relief

   Will surely appear;

By prayer let me wrestle,

   And He will perform;

With Christ in the vessel,

   I smile at the storm.

 2 

Though dark be my way,

   Since He is my Guide,

'Tis mine to obey,

   'Tis His to provide;

Though cisterns be broken,

   And creatures all fail,

The word He hath spoken

   Shall surely prevail.

 3 

His love, in time past,

   Forbids me to think

He'll leave me at last

   In trouble to sink:

Each sweet Ebenezer

   I have in review

Confirms His good pleasure

   To help me quite through.

 4 

Why should I complain

   Of want or distress,

Temptation or pain?

   He told me no less;

The heirs of salvation,

   I know from His Word,

Through much tribulation

   Must follow their Lord.

 5 

How bitter that cup

   No heart can conceive,

Which He drank quite up,

   That sinners might live!

His way was much rougher

   And darker than mine;

Did Christ, my Lord, suffer,

   And shall I repine?

 6 

Since all that I meet

   Shall work for my good,

The bitter is sweet,

   The medicine, food;

Though painful at present,

   'Twill cease before long,

And then, oh, how pleasant

   The conqueror's song!