How sweet to be allowed to pray
To God, the Holy One,
With filial love and trust to say,—
“Father, thy will be done!”
We in these sacred words can find
A cure for every ill;
They calm and soothe the troubled mind,
And bid all care be still.
O, let that will, which gave me breath
And an immortal soul,
In joy or grief, in life or death,
My every wish control!
O, could my heart thus ever pray,
Thus imitate thy Son!
Teach me, O God, with truth to say,—
“Thy will, not mine, be done!”