My God and Fa­ther! while I stray
Far from my home in life’s rough way,
Oh! teach me from my heart to say,
Thy will be done!

Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Let me be still, and mur­mur not,
Or breathe the pray­er di­vine­ly taught,
Thy will be done!

What though in lone­ly grief I sigh,
For friends be­loved, no long­er nigh,
Submissive still would I re­ply,
Thy will be done!

If Thou shouldst call me to re­sign
What most I prize, it ne’er was mine;
I on­ly yield Thee what was Thine;
Thy will be done!

Should pin­ing sick­ness waste away,
My life in pre­ma­ture de­cay,
My Fa­ther! still I strive to say,
Thy will be done!

Let but my faint­ing heart be blest
With Thy sweet Spir­it for its guest,
My God! to Thee I leave the rest—
Thy will be done!

Renew my will from day to day,
Blend it with Thine, and take away
All now that makes it hard to say,
Thy will be done!

Then when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer oft mixed with tears be­fore,
I’ll sing up­on a hap­pi­er shore,
Thy will be done!