1  Begone, unbelief,

       My Savior is near,

    And for my relief

       Will surely appear;

    By prayer let me wrestle,

       And He will perform;

    With Christ in the vessel,

       I smile at the storm.

 2  Though dark be my way,

       Since He is my Guide,

    'Tis mine to obey,

       'Tis His to provide;

    Though cisterns be broken,

       And creatures all fail,

    The word He hath spoken

       Shall surely prevail.

 3  His love, in time past,

       Forbids me to think

    He'll leave me at last

       In trouble to sink:

    Each sweet Ebenezer

       I have in review

    Confirms His good pleasure

       To help me quite through.

 4  Why should I complain

       Of want or distress,

    Temptation or pain?

       He told me no less;

    The heirs of salvation,

       I know from His Word,

    Through much tribulation

       Must follow their Lord.

 5  How bitter that cup

       No heart can conceive,

    Which He drank quite up,

       That sinners might live!

    His way was much rougher

       And darker than mine;

    Did Christ, my Lord, suffer,

       And shall I repine?

 6  Since all that I meet

       Shall work for my good,

    The bitter is sweet,

       The medicine, food;

    Though painful at present,

       'Twill cease before long,

    And then, oh, how pleasant

       The conqueror's song!