God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform,
He plants his footsteps in the sea
And ride upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
OI never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs
And works his sov'reign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
are big with mercy and shall break.
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace,
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding ev'ry hour,
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow'r.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.