O for a heart pre­pared to sing
To God, my Sav­ior, and my king;
While with His saints I join to tell,
My Je­sus has done all things well.

All worlds His glo­ri­ous power con­fess;
His wis­dom all His works ex­press;
But O His love what tongue can tell!
My Je­sus has done all things well.

How so­ve­reign, won­der­ful and free
Is all His love to sin­ful me!
He plucked me as a brand from hell:
My Je­sus has done all things well.

I spurned His grace, I broke His laws,
And yet He un­der­took my cause,
To save me, though I did re­bel:
My Je­sus has done all things well.

And since my soul has known His love
What mer­cies has He made me prove!
Mercies which all my praise ex­cel,
My Je­sus has done all things well.

Whene’er my Sav­ior and my God
Has on me laid His gen­tle rod,
I know, in all that has be­fell,
My Je­sus has done all things well.

Tho’ oft a fie­ry, flam­ing dart
The tempt­er lev­els at my heart,
With this I all his rage re­pel,
My Je­sus has done all things well.

Sometimes He’s pleased His face to hide,
To make me pray, or kill my pride;
Yet I am helped on this to dwell:
My Je­sus has done all things well.

Soon shall I pass the vale of death,
And, in His arms, shall lose my breath;
Yet then my hap­py soul shall tell,
My Je­sus has done all things well.

And, when to that bright world I rise,
And join the an­thems in the skies,
Above the rest this note shall swell:
My Je­sus has done all things well.