John Oxenham

God Is Good

   I faced a future all unknown,
   No opening could I see,
   I heard without the night wind moan,
   The ways were dark to me,—
   “I cannot face it all alone
   O be Thou near to me!”
 
   I had done sums, and sums, and sums,
   Inside my aching head.
   I’d tried in vain to pierce the glooms
   That lay so thick ahead.
   But two and two will not make five,
   Nor will do when I’m dead.
 
   And then I thought of Him who fed
   Five thousand hungry men,
   With five small casual loaves of bread,—
   Would he were here again!—
   Dear God! hast Thou still miracles
   For the troubled sons of men?
 
   He has, He will, He worketh still,
   In ways most wonderful.
   He drew me from the miry clay,
   He filled my cup quite full.
   And while my heart can speak I’ll tell
   His love unspeakable.
 
   “Rest in the Lord!”—I saw it there,
   On the tablets of the night.
   And, comforted, I dropped my care
   Where burdens have no weight.
   Then, trustfully, I turned and slept,
   And woke, and it was light.
 
   God works to-day as He did of old
   For the lightening of men’s woes.
   His wonders never can be told,
   His goodness no man knows,—
   His Love, His Power, His Tenderness,—
   Nor shall do till life’s close.
 
   His kindness is so very great,
   His greatness is so good.
   He looks upon my low estate,
   He gives me daily food.
   And nothing is too small for Him,—
   Yes, truly! God is good.
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