Wait, O my soul, thy maker’s will,
Tumultuous passions all be still!
Nor let a murmuring thought arise,
His ways are just, his counsels wise.

He in the thickest darkness dwells,
Performs his work, the cause conceals;
But though his methods are unknown,
Judgment and truth support his throne.

In heaven, and earth, and air, and seas,
He executes his firm decrees;
And by his saints it stands confessed,
That what he does is ever best.

Wait then, my soul, submissive wait,
Prostrate before his awful seat;
And ‘midst the terrors of his rod,
Trust in a wise and gracious God.

–Benjamin Beddome (1717-1795)