Thy will be done.
O Lord, it seems but one short yesterday
Since I, a fearful child
Made prayer unto myself,—
Unto myself far off removed and magnified,—
That life and love be spared
And happy, loving days remain;
And then through choking, blinding tears
While iron fingers swept with rudest touch
Across the aching, breaking strings
Of a tired heart
Cried out, ere anguish could beat back the cry,
"Thy will be done."
Thy will be done.
My God
To-day the plaint of yesterday is gone;
No more unto myself I pray
But unto Thee.
Thy perfect life and love
Are mine as I awake.
And as I learn to live and love
As life and love in heaven is learned
The all of now
The all of all eternity
Resounds with glad and grand tumultuous song,—
"Thy will be done."
