Thy will be done! I will not fear
The fate pro­vid­ed by Thy love;
Though clouds and dark­ness shroud me here,
I know that all is bright above.

The stars of Heav’n are shin­ing on,
Though these frail eyes are dimmed with tears;
The hopes of earth in­deed are gone,
But are not ours th’im­mor­tal years?

Father, for­give the heart that clings,
Thus trem­bling, to the things of time;
And bid my soul on an­gel wings,
Ascend in­to a pur­er clime.

There shall no doubts dis­turb its trust,
No sor­rows dim ce­les­ti­al love;
But these af­flict­ions of the dust,
Like sha­dows of the night, re­move.

E’en now, above, there’s ra­di­ant day,
While clouds and dark­ness brood be­low;
Then, Fa­ther, joy­ful on my way
To drink the bit­ter cup I go.