Hymn CCLXIX. Common Metre. Strength from God

Whence do our mournful tho'ts arise And where's our courage fled? Has restless sin and hopeless fear, Struck all our comfort dead?

Have we forgot th' almighty hand, That form'd the earth and sea? Or can the all-creating arm, Grow weary or decay?

Treasures of everlasting might, In our Jehovah dwell; He gives the conquest to the weak, And treads their foes to hell.

Mere mortal power shall fade and die, And youthful vigour cease; But they who wait upon the Lord Shall find their strength increase.

The saints shall mount on eagle's wings, And taste the promis'd bliss; 'Till their unwearied feet arrive, Where perfect pleasure is.