Verse 1
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Verse 2
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs,
And works His sovereign will.

Verse 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.

Verse 4
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

Verse 5
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour:
The bud may have a bitter taste
But sweet will be the flower.

Verse 6
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan His work in vain:
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.