“Thou sweet beloved Will of God,
My anchor ground, my fortress hill,
The Spirit’s silent fair abode,
In Thee I hide me and am still.
O Will, that wiliest good alone,
Lead Thou the way, Thou guidest best;
A silent child, I follow on,
And trusting, lean upon Thy breast.
God’s will doth make the bitter sweet,
And all is well when it is done;
Unless His will doth hallow it,
The glory of all joy is gone.”