Now that my journey’s just begun,
My course so little trod,
’Twere well if ere I further run,
My soul were brought to God.
What sorrows may my steps attend,
I cannot now foretell:
But if the Lord will be my Friend,
I know all will be well.
Then if my earthly friends should die,
And leave me mourning here,
Since God regards the orphan’s cry,
What should I have to fear?
Should I be rich, He’ll guard my heart,
Temptation to withstand,
And make me willing to impart
The bounties of His hand.
Should I be poor, He can supply
Who has my table spread:
Who feeds the ravens when they cry,
And fills His poor with bread.
And if, whatever grief or ill
For me may be in store,
I’m made submissive to His will,
I need not ask for more.