God moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps on 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 gracious will.

3 You fearful saints, fresh courage take;

The clouds you 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 purposes 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.