1 Let me, thou sovereign Lord of all,
Low at thy footstool humbly fall,
And while I feel affliction’s rod,
Be still and know that thou art God.

2 When and wherever thou shalt smite,
I'll own thee kind, I'll own thee right;
And underneath the heaviest load,
Be still, and know that thou art God.

3 Dost thou my earthly comforts slay,
And take beloved ones away?
Yet will my soul revere thy rod,
Be still, and know that thou art God.

4 Then be my trials great or small,
There's sure a needs-be for them all;
Thus, then, by dealing I'll applaud,
Be still, and know that thou art God.

5 Let me not murmur, nor repine,
Under these trying strokes of thine;
But while I walk the mournful road,
Be still, and know that thou art God.

6 Still let this truth support my mind,
Thou can'st not err, nor be unkind;
And thus may I approve the rod,
Be still, and know that thou art God.

7 Thy love thou'lt make in heaven appear
In all I've borne or suffer'd here;
Let me, till brought to that bode,
Be still, and know that thou art God.

8 There when my happy soul shall rise
To joys and Jesus in the skies,
I shall, as ransom'd by thy blood,
For ever sing, thou art my God.