1 Peace, troubled soul, thou need'st not fear,
Thy great Provider still is near;
Who fed thee last will feed thee still,
Be calm, and sink into his will.

2 The Lord who built the earth and sky,
In mercy stoops to hear thy cry;
His promise all may freely claim,
"Ask and receive in Jesu's name."

3 His stores are open all and free
To such as truly upright be;
Water and bread he'll give for food,
With all things else which he sees good.

4 Your sacred hairs which are so small,
By God himself are number'd all:
This truth he's publish'd all abroad,
That men may learn to trust the Lord.

5 The ravens daily he doth feed,
And sends them food as they have need,
Altho' they nothing have in store,
Yet as they lack he gives them more.

6 Then do not seek, with anxious care,
What ye shall eat, or drink, or wear;
Your heav'nly Father will you feed,
He knows that all these things you need.

7 Without reserve, give Christ your heart:
Let him his righteousness impart;
Then all things else he'll freely give;
With him you all things shall receive.

8 Thus shall the soul be truly blest,
That seeks in God his only rest:
May I that happy person be,
In time, and in eternity!