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GOD works in a mysterious way,
Deep in unfathomable mines
Ye feeble saints, fresh courage take: The clouds ye so much dread, Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.
Judge not the LORD by feeble sense,
His purposes are rip'ning fast,
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
ON THE WORDS,
If thou knewest who it is," &c.
AT Jacob's well a stranger sought
Those living draughts deny'd.
But who the Stranger knows?
Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; Amidst thy bow'rs, the tyrant's hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green: One only master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain;