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O, let us exalt our dear Lord and proclaim,
In songs of true gratitude, praise to His name!
As songs of the angels in sweetest accord,
Our thanks and our praises shall rise to the Lord.
-- Zion's Harp # 165

Hymn Information

Not A Brooklet Floweth




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Not a brooklet floweth
Onward to the sea,
Not a sunbeam gloweth
On its bosom free,
Not a seed unfoldeth
To the glorious air,
But our Father holdeth
It within His care.

Not a flow'ret fadeth,
Not a star grows dim,
Not a cloud o'ershadeth,
But 'tis marked by Him.
Dream not that thy gladness
God doth fail to see;
Think not in thy sadness
He forgeteth thee.

Not a tie is broken,
Not a hope laid low,
Not a farewell spoken,
But our God doth know.
Ev'ry hair is numbered,
Ev'ry tear is weighed
In the changeless balance
Wisest Love hath made.

Pow'r eternal resteth
In His changeless hand;
Love immortal hasteth,
Swift at His command.
Faith can firmly trust Him
In the darkest hour,
For the key she holdeth
To His love and pow'r.

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