"'Thy will be done,' O Love divine," I pray
When anxious care would steal my peace away;
And then my thought is still—
Quiet and tranquil like a limpid lake,
Where brown-eyed kine bend low their thirst to slake,
And sunbeams play at will.
When at life's crossroads I bewildered stand,
"Thy will be done," I pray, and take Thy hand,
And walk by faith; nor height,
Nor depth, can harm me; fearlessly I go
Through rugged paths, night-shadowed, for I know
Thy hand will lead to light.
Weary with tasks or burdened with false care,
Father, "Thy will be done," I breathe in prayer,
And suddenly I'm free—
Rejoicing as I journey down life's road,
Released from present, past, and future load,
Trusting it all to Thee.
Thy good, acceptable, and perfect will
Comforts, sustains, inspires, protects from ill,
Ever a shield and sun,
Pillar of cloud and fire to guard and guide.
Who would not in its mighty power confide,
And pray, "Thy will be done"!
