Chorale Book for England

All things hang on our possessing

God's free love and grace and blessing,

Though all earthly wealth depart;

He who God for his hath taken,

'Mid the changing world unshaken

Keeps a free heroic heart.

He who hitherto hath fed me,

And to many a joy hath led me,

Is and shall be ever mine;

He who did so gently school me,

He who still doth guide and rule me,

Will not leave me now to pine.

Shall I weary me with fretting

O'er vain trifles, and regretting

Things that never can remain?

I will strive but that to win me

That can shed true rest within me,

Rest the world must seek in vain.

When my heart with longing sickens,

Hope again my courage quickens,

For my wish shall be fulfill'd,

If it please His love most tender;

Life and soul I all surrender

Unto Him on whom I build.

Well He knows how best to grant me

All the longing hopes that haunt me;

All things have their proper day;

I would dictate to Him never,

As God wills so be it ever,

When He wills I will obey.

If on earth He bids me linger,

He will guide me with His finger

Through the years that now took dim;

All that earth has fleets and changes

As a river onward ranges,

But I rest in peace on Him.