"Thy will be done." How comforting that prayer
Now that I know the nature of my God,
Know to trust the Father's loving care,
The gentle Shepherd's leading to all good.
Let me not rue those dark, untutored years
When merest thought of yielding to His will
Summoned from the deep of mortal fears
Grim images—cross, rack, the stake, the wall.
No, let my thought move surely forward, higher.
God's will for us is joy and peace, not woe.
It is not Love that lights the martyr's pyre,
But sin's resistance to the Christly way.
Strong faith can walk unsinged through hatred's fire
Until it reaches Love's ascendant day.
