The poet, William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform

He plants His footsteps in the sea,

And rides upon the storm.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour:

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

Blind belief is sure to err,

And scan His works in vain:

God is His own interpreter,

And He will make it plain.

- The poet, William Cowper