“He hath done all things well!”
Man, wondering must tell
His praise, who healed with might divine,
Whose power in lowliest grace did shine,
Who sighed in sympathy.
Before that power, that grace, that love,
Man’s stubborn heart and tongue must move
And own His majesty.
“He hath done all things well!”
The heaven wrung tribute fell
On ears new opened; and the sound
Thrilling the heart, the tongue, unbound,
Would tell His praise abroad.
The unstopped ears could hear His voice
And the loosed tongue, heaven taught, rejoice
To own the healing word.
“He hath done all things well!”
What voice on earth can tell
The blest perfection of His ways?
What voice so sound His endless praise
As that from Calvary’s hill?
God glorified—the spoiler spoiled—
The sinner freed—the tempter foiled—
All done, the Father’s will.
“He hath done all things well!”
His pilgrim saints can tell.
Of quenchless love, unfailing grace;
On every path this record trace —
“He hath done all things well!”
Amen. Each soul adoring bends.
Amen. Each heart in praise ascends
And owns that all is well.
“He hath done all things well!”
Eternity shall tell
More hidden ways with wisdom fraught,
More perfect works His hand hath wrought,
Endless the tale shall swell.
New heavens and earth new songs shall raise.
And countless voices sound His praise
Who hath done all things well.
“He hath done all things well!”
His saints delight to dwell,
With raptured hearts and raptured gaze,
Upon His matchless, heavenly ways.
But God alone can tell
The fullness of that Perfect One;
He only fully knows the Son
Who hath done all things well.