I asked the New Year for some mot­to sweet,
Some rule of life with which to guide my feet;
I asked and paused; he an­swered soft and low,
God’s will, God’s will to know,
God’s will to know.

Will know­ledge then suf­fice, New Year? I cried;
And ere the quest­ion in­to si­lence died,
The an­swer came, Nay, but re­mem­ber, too,
God’s will, God’s will to do,
God’s will to do.

Once more I asked, Is there no more to tell?
And once again the an­swer sweet­ly fell:
Yes, this one thing, all oth­er things above,
God’s will, God’s will to love,
God’s will to love.