1 My times of sorrow and of joy,
Great God! are in thy hand;
My choicest comforts come from thee,
And go at thy command.

2 If thou should'st take them all away,
Yet would I not repine;
Before they were possess'd by me,
They were entirely thine.

3 Nor would I drop a murm'ring word,
Tho' the whole world were gone;
But seek enduring happiness
In thee, and thee alone.

4 What is the world with all its store,
'Tis but a bitter-sweet;
When I attempt to pluck the rose,
A pricking thorn I meet.

5 Here perfect bliss can ne'er be found,
The honey's mixt with gall;
Midst changing scenes and dying friends
Be thou my ALL IN ALL.