“What can these anxious cares avail thee, These never-ceasing moans and sighs? What can it help if thou bewail thee O’er each dark moment as it flies? Our cross and trials do but press The heavier for our bitterness.

“Be patient and await His leisure In cheerful hope, with heart content To take what’er thy Father’s pleasure And His discerning love hath sent, Nor doubt our inmost wants are known To Him who choose us for His own.”