What pleaseth God with joy receive;
Though storm-winds rage and billows heave
And earth's foundations all be rent,
Be comforted; to thee is sent
What pleaseth God.
God's will is best; to this resigned,
How sweetly rests the weary mind!
Seek, then, this blessed conformity,
Desiring but to do and be
What pleaseth God.
God's thoughts are wisest; human schemes
Are vain delusions, idle dreams;
Our purposes are frail and weak;
With earthly mind we seldom seek
What pleaseth God.
God is the holiest; and his ways
Are full of kindness, truth, and grace;
His blessing crowns our earnest prayer,
While worldlings scorn, and little care
What pleaseth God.
God's is the truest heart; his love
Nor time, nor life, nor death, can move;
To those his mercies daily flow,
Whose chief concern it is to know
What pleaseth God.
Omnipotent he reigns on high
And watcheth o'er thy destiny;
While sea, and earth, and air produce
For daily pleasure, daily use,
What pleaseth God.
He loves his sheep, and when they stray
He leads them back to wisdom's way;
Their faithless, wandering hearts to turn,
Gently chastising, till they learn
What pleaseth God.
He knows our every need, and grants
A rich supply to all our wants;
No good withholds from those whose mind
Is bent with earnest zeal to find
What pleaseth God.
Then let the world, with stubborn will,
Its earthborn pleasures follow still;
Be this, my soul, thy constant aim,
Thy riches, honor, glory, fame,
What pleaseth God.
Should care and grief thy portion be,
To thy strong refuge ever flee;
For all his creatures but perform,
In peace and tumult, calm and storm,
What pleaseth God.
Faith lays her hand on God's rich grace,
And hope gives patience for the race;
These virtues in thy heart enshrined,
Thy portion thou wilt surely find,
What pleaseth God.
In heaven thy glorious portion is;
There is thy throne, thy crown, thy bliss;
There shalt thou taste, and hear, and see,
There shalt thou ever do and be,
What pleaseth God.
--Paul Gerhardt.
"THE SPLENDOR OF GOD'S WILL"
O words of golden music
Caught from the harps on high,
Which find a glorious anthem
Where we have found a sigh,
And peal their grandest praises
Just where ours faint and die.
O words of holy radiance
Shining on every tear
Till it becomes a rainbow,
Reflecting, bright and clear,
Our Father's love and glory
So wonderful, so dear!
O words of sparkling power,
Of insight full and deep!
Shall they not enter other hearts
In a grand and gladsome sweep,
And lift the lives to songs of joy
That only droop and weep?
And O, it is a splendor,
A glow of majesty,
A mystery of beauty,
If we will only see;
A very cloud of glory
Enfolding you and me.
A splendor that is lighted
At one transcendent flame,
The wondrous love, the perfect love,
Our Father's sweetest name;
For his very name and essence
And his will are all the same.
--Frances Ridley Havergal.