1  God moves in a mysterious way

       His wonders to perform:

    He plants His footsteps in the sea,

       And rides upon the storm.

 2  Deep in unfathomable mines

       Of never-failing skill,

    He treasures up His bright designs,

       And works His sovereign will.

 3  Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;

       The clouds ye so much dread

    Are big with mercy, and shall break

       In blessings on your head.

 4  Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

       But trust Him for His grace;

    Behind a frowning providence

       He hides a smiling face.

 5  His purpose will ripen fast,

       Unfolding every hour:

    The bud may have a bitter taste,

       But sweet will be the flower.

 6  Blind unbelief is sure to err,

       And scan His work in vain;

    God is His own Interpreter,

       And He will make it plain.