OLD POEM FROM 17TH CENTURY

Hope, oh! thou wretched soul, Home, home and be valliant!

Only wait then, wait, and surely thou shalt see the sun of lovely Joy.

Up! Up! and give thy sorrow and all thy cares good-night;

And all that grieves and saddens thy heart be put to flight.

Not thou thyself art ruler when all things must obey,

But God is Lord decreeing--all follows in His way.

And even though all Devils came and opposed his will

There were no cause for doubting, God will be steadfast still.

What He has undertaken, All His divine decree--

Exactly as He ordered at last shall all things be.