I have nothing to do with tomorrow,
My Father knows all I can bear;
He comforts in sadness and sorrow,
And saves me from withering care.
I have nothing to do with tomorrow;
Why yield then to terror and tears?
Its mercy I never can borrow;
’Twill come when the morrow appears.
I have nothing to do with tomorrow,
Though I know not the grief it may bring;
But the hand that provides for the sparrow
O’er me its protection will fling.
His love can dispel all my sadness,
So that songs of rejoicing I raise;
His care has turned gloom into gladness,
And sighing and sorrow to praise.