My God and Father knoweth
My daily—hourly need;
His care the raven showeth,
The fowls His goodness plead,
The worm the plow removeth
As men their fields prepare,
The barnless bird receiveth
Without one sigh of care.
‘Tis thus my Father giveth
His child each fresh supply:
No thought for life disturbs me,
No care for food have I.
The earthly ones may wonder:
My joy they cannot know,—
While for my Lord I’m laboring,
‘Tis for themselves they sow.
Oh, yes! my Father knoweth
The lily’s growth declares,
And every flow’r is covered
In raiment He prepares.
The world may need adorning,
And hide in smiles its woe,
And little knows my Father
Can feast a pilgrim so.
My Father’s house I’ve entered,
I dwell not on the earth:
A heavenly saint by calling,
A son of light by birth.
For me no Paul is weeping—
I mind not earthly things;
I want not a millennium
Ruled by the King of kings.
Now from that house I’m coming,
To bring to earth a store
Of rich abundant blessing,
It never knew before;
For, while I use as steward,
“The mammon” not mine own
I draw a sox’s “true riches”
From One upon a throne.
The Bridegroom quickly cometh
His image soon I’ll bear;
Lord Jesus, I am waiting
To meet Thee in the air.
And while the child is watching,
The Father’s blessings flow,
For could an heir of glory
Be left to want below!
Oh, no! for with the Father
The First-born now is throned,
And patiently I’m waiting,
For one with Him owned.
The world may need its pleasure
To fill the void within,
And cares not for the Treasure
The heavens have now shut in.