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 From God's own hand this earthly vessel came,

He shaped it thus, be it for fame or shame;

If it be fair—to God be all the praise,

If it be foul—to God alone the blame.

To me there is much comfort in the thought

That all our agonies can alter nought,

Our lives are written to their latest word,

We but repeat a lesson He hath taught.

Our wildest wrong is part of His great Right,

Our weakness is the shadow of His might,

Our sins are His, forgiven long ago,

To make His mercy more exceeding bright.

When first the stars were made and planets seven,

Already was it told of me in Heaven

That God had chosen me to sing His Vine,

And in my dust had thrown the vinous leaven.