By Team ClassWork 
God moves in a mysterious way.
His wonders to perform;
He plans his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Judge not the Lord by feeble’ sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
By William Cowper
