I bow me to Thy will, O God~
And all Thy ways adore,
And every day I live, I'd seek
To please Thee more and more.
Thy will the end, the blessed rule
Of Jesus' toil and tears;
Thy will the passion of His heart,
Those three and thirty years.
And He hath breathed into my soul,
A special love to Thee,
A love—to lose my will in Thine,
And by that loss be free.
I love to see Thee bring to naught
The plans of wily men;
When simple hearts outwit the wise,
O Thou art loveliest then!
The headstrong world, it presses hard
Upon the Church full oft;
But then how easily Thou turnst
The hard ways into soft.
I love to kiss each print where Christ
Did set His pilgrim feet;
Nor can I fear that blessed path,
Whose traces are so sweet.
When obstacle, and trials seem
Like prison walls to be,
I do the little I can do,
And leave the rest to Thee.
I know not what it is to doubt;
My heart is ever gay;
I run no risk, for, come what will,
Thou always hast Thy way.
I have no cares, O blessed Lord!
For all my cares are Thine;
I live in triumph, too for Thou
Has made Thy triumphs mine.
And when it seems no chance nor change
From grief can set me free,
Hope finds its strength in helplessness,
And, patient, waits on Thee.
Man's weakness, waiting upon God,
Its end can never miss,
For men on earth no work can do,
More angel-like than this.
Lead on, lead on, triumphantly,
O blessed Lord! Lead on,
Faith's pilgrim sons behind Thee seek
The road that Thou hast gone.
He always wins who sides with God,
To him no chance is lost;
God's will is sweetest to him, when
It triumphs at his cost.
Ill that God blesses is our good,
And unblest good is ill;
And all is right that seems most wrong;
If it be His sweet will!
[The above is slightly altered from an old hymn.]