Welcome What Comes.

God He refuseth no man, but makes way
For all that now come or hereafter may.

In vain our labours are whatsoe'er they be,
Unless God gives the benedicite.

    I'll hope no more
For things that will not come;
And if they do, they prove but cumbersome.
    Wealth brings much woe;
And, since it fortunes so,
'Tis better to be poor
    Than so t' abound
    As to be drown'd
Or overwhelm'd with store.

    Pale care, avaunt!
I'll learn to be content
With that small stock Thy bounty gave or lent.
    What may conduce
To my most healthful use,
Almighty God, me grant;
    But that, or this,
    That hurtful is,
Deny Thy suppliant.

God, as He's potent, so He's likewise known
To give us more than hope can fix upon.

To bread and water none is poor;
And having these, what need of more?
Though much from out the cess be spent,
Nature with little is content.

When winds and seas do rage
And threaten to undo me,
Thou dost, their wrath assuage
If I but call unto Thee.

A mighty storm last night
Did seek my soul to swallow,
But by the peep of light
A gentle calm did follow.

What need I then despair,
Though ills stand round about me;
Since mischiefs neither dare
To bark or bite without Thee?