Whate'er God wills let that be done;
His will is ever wisest;
His grace will all thy hope outrun
Who to that faith arisest.
The gracious Lord
Will help afford;
He chastens with forbearing;
Who God believes,
And to him cleaves,
Shall not be left despairing.
My God is my sure confidence,
My light, and my existence;
His counsel is beyond my sense,
But stirs no weak resistance;
His word declares
The very hairs
Upon my head are numbered;
His mercy large
Holds me in charge
With care that never slumbered.
There comes a day when at his will
The pulse of nature ceases.
I think upon it, and am still,
Let come whate'er he pleases.
To him I trust
My soul, my dust,
When flesh and spirit sever;
The Christ we sing
Has plucked the sting
Away from death forever.
--Albert of Brandenburg, 1586.