How aw­ful is Thy chast­en­ing rod!
May Thy own child­ren say:
The great, the wise, the dread­ful God!
How holy is His way!
I’ll me­di­tate His works of old,
The King that reigns above;
I’ll hear His an­cient won­ders told,
And learn to trust His love.

Long did the house of Jo­seph lie
With Egypt’s yoke op­pressed;
Long He de­layed to hear their cry,
Nor gave His peo­ple rest.
The sons of good old Ja­cob seemed
Abandoned to their foes;
But His al­migh­ty arm re­deemed
The na­tion that He chose.

Israel, His peo­ple and His sheep,
Must fol­low where He calls;
He bade them ven­ture through the deep,
And made the waves their walls.
The wa­ters saw Thee, migh­ty God!
The wa­ters saw Thee come;
Backward they fled, and fright­ed stood,
To make Thine ar­mies room.

Strange was Thy jour­ney through the sea
Thy foot­steps, Lord, un­known;
Terrors at­tend the won­drous way
That brings Thy mer­cies down.
Thy voice, with ter­ror in the sound,
Through clouds and dark­ness broke;
All Heav’n in light­ning shone around,
And earth with thun­der shook.

Thine ar­rows through the skies were hurled;
How glo­ri­ous is the Lord!
Surprise and trem­bling seized the world,
And His own saints ad­ored.
He gave them wa­ter from the rock,
And safe, by Mos­es’ hand,
Through a dry de­sert led His flock
Home to the pro­mised land.