Begone, unbelief,

My Savior is near,

And for my relief

Will surely appear;

By prayer let me wrestle,

And He will perform;

With Christ in the vessel,

I smile at the storm.

Though dark be my way,

Since He is my Guide,

'Tis mine to obey,

'Tis His to provide;

Though cisterns be broken,

And creatures all fail,

The word He hath spoken

Shall surely prevail.

His love, in time past,

Forbids me to think

He'll leave me at last

In trouble to sink:

Each sweet Ebenezer

I have in review

Confirms His good pleasure

To help me quite through.

Why should I complain

Of want or distress,

Temptation or pain?

He told me no less;

The heirs of salvation,

I know from His Word,

Through much tribulation

Must follow their Lord.

How bitter that cup

No heart can conceive,

Which He drank quite up,

That sinners might live!

His way was much rougher

And darker than mine;

Did Christ, my Lord, suffer,

And shall I repine?

Since all that I meet

Shall work for my good,

The bitter is sweet,

The medicine, food;

Though painful at present,

'Twill cease before long,

And then, oh, how pleasant

The conqueror's song!