Not A Sparrow Falleth But Its God Doth Know, Just As When His Mandate Lays A Monarch Low; Not A Leaflet Moveth, But Its God Doth See, Think Not, Then, O Mortal, God Forgetteth Thee. Far More Precious Surely Than The Birds That Fly Is A Father'S Image To A Father'S Eye. E'En Thy Hairs Are Numbered; Trust Him Full And Free, Cast Thy Cares Before Him, He Will Comfort Thee; For The God That Planted In Thy Breast A Soul, On His Sacred Tables Doth Thy Name Enroll. Cheer Thine Heart, Then, Mortal, Never Faithless Be, He That Marks The Sparrows Will Remember Thee.