The Sovereignty of GodIsaac Watts, 1674-1748Keep silence all created things,And wait your Maker's nod;My soul stands trembling while she sings,The glories of her God.Life, death, and Hell, and worlds unknown,Hang on His firm decree;He sits on no precarious throne,Nor asks assent to be.Chained to His throne, a volume lies,With all the fates of men,With every angel's form and size,Drawn by the eternal pen.His providence unfolds the book,And makes His counsels shine;Each opening leaf, and every stroke,Fulfills some deep design.Here He exalts neglected worms,To kingship and a crown;And then the following page He turns,And treads the monarch down.My God, I would not long to see,My fate with curious eyes;What gloomy lines are writ for me,Or what bright scenes may rise.In your pure book of life and grace,O may I find my name,Recorded in some humble place,Beneath my Lord the Lamb.