1 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.

2 In realms of cloudless light he dwells,
Performs his work, the cause conceals;
And though his footsteps are unknown,
Judgment and truth support his throne.

3 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.

4 Wait, then, my soul, submissive wait,
With reverence bow before his seat,
And 'mid the terrors of his rod
Trust in a wise and gracious God.