1 When I can trust my all with God,
In trial's fearful hour,
Bow, all resign'd beneath His rod,
And bless His chastening power,
A joy springs up amid distress,
A fountain in the wilderness.

2 O blesséd be the Hand that gave,
Still blesséd be when it takes;
Blesséd be He Who smites to save,
Who heals the heart He breaks:
Perfect and true are all His ways,
Whom heaven adores and death obeys.