Begone unbelief,

My Savior is near,

And for my relief

Will surely appear:

354 By prayer let me wrestle,

And he wilt perform,

With CHRIST in the vessel,

I smile at the storm.

Though dark be my way,

Since he is my guide,

’Tis mine to obey,

’Tis his to provide;

Though cisterns be broken,

And creatures all fail,

The word he has spoken

Shall surely prevail.

His love in time past

Forbids me to think

He’ll leave me at last

In trouble to sink;

Each sweet Ebenezer

I have in review,

Confirms his good pleasure

To help me quite through.

Determined to save,

He watched o’er my path,

When Satan’s blind slave,

I sported with death;

And can he have taught me

To trust in his name,

And thus far have brought me,

To put me to shame?

Why should I complain

Of want or distress,

Temptation or pain?

He told me no less:

The heirs of salvation,

I know from his word,

Through much tribulation

Must follow their LORD.

How bitter that cup,

No heart can conceive,

Which he drank quite up,

That sinners might live!

His way was much rougher,

And darker than mine;

Did Jesus thus suffer,

And shall I repine?

Since all that I meet

Shall work for my good,

The bitter is sweet,

The med’cine is food;

Though painful at present,

Wilt cease before long,

And then, O! how pleasant,

The conqueror’s song!