By the hope thy name inspires,
By our doom revers'd through thee,
Bring us, Queen of angel choirs,
To a blest eternity.
40. Divine Providence.
Behold the lilies of the field,
They neither toil nor sow;
Yet God doth all things needful yield,
That they may bud and blow.
Not Solomon in glory shone
Like one of these poor flowers,
That look to God, and God alone,
For sunshine and for showers.
And does his mercy value less
The offspring of his grace?
And will a Father's love not bless
The child that seeks his face?
Oh, then away with fear and care
For all that may betide:
And turn to God in trustful pray'r,
And in his love confide.
He is our Father, and he knows
His earthly children's need;
On all our daily wants and woes
He looks with careful heed.
41. If e'er my heart in riper years.
If e'er my heart in riper years
Shall beat with anguish, grief, or fears,
My Jesus he will hear each moan,
And gently say, "Thou'rt not alone."
