My Web of Life

No chance has brought this ill to me;&ls;Tis God's sweet will, so let it be,He seeth what I cannot see.There is a need for each pain;And He will one day make it plainThat earthly loss is heavenly gain.Like as a piece of tapestryViewed from the back appears to beBut tangled threads mixed hopelessly,But in the front a picture fairRewards the worker for his care,Proving his skill and patience rare.Thou are the workman, I the frame;Lord, for the glory of Thy name,Perfect Thine image in the same.