Chorale Book for England

From God shall nought divide me,

For He is true for aye,

And on my path will guide me,

Who else should often stray;

His ever-bounteous hand

By night and day is heedful,

And gives me what is needful,

Where'er I go or stand.

If sorrow comes, He sent it,

In Him I put my trust;

I never shall repent it,

For He is true and just,

And loves to bless us still;

My life and soul, I owe them

To Him who doth bestow them,

Let Him do as He will.

Whate'er shall be His pleasure

Is surely best for me;

He gave His dearest treasure

That our weak hearts might see

How good His will t'ward us;

And in His Son He gave us

Whate'er could bless and save us;--

Praise Him who loveth thus!

Oh praise Him, for He never

Forgets our daily need;

Oh blest the hour whenever

To Him our thoughts can speed;

Yes, all the time we spend

Without Him is but wasted,

Till we His joy have tasted,

The joy that hath no end.

For when the'world is passing

With all its pomp and pride,

All we were here amassing

No longer may abide;

But in our earthy bed,

Where softly we are sleeping,

God hath us in His keeping,

To wake us from the dead.

Then though on earth I suffer

Much trial, well I know

I merit ways still rougher,

And 'tis to heaven I go;

For Christ I know and love,

To Him I now am hasting,

And gladness everlasting

With Him this heart shall prove.

For such His will who made us,

The Father seeks our good;

The Son hath grace to aid us,

And save us by His blood;

His Spirit rules our ways,

By faith in us abiding,

To heaven our footsteps guiding;

To Him be thanks and praise.