Father! Thy will, not mine, be done!
So prayed on earth Thy suffering Son,
So, in His name I pray:
The spirit fails, the flesh is weak;
Thy help in agony I seek;
O! take this cup away.
If such be not Thy sovereign will,
Thy wiser purpose then fulfil;
My wishes I resign,
Into Thine hands my soul commend,
On Thee for life or death depend;
Thy will be done, not mine.
--_James Montgomery._
Give to the winds thy fears;
Hope, and be undismay'd;
God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears.
God shall lift up thy head.
Through waves, through clouds and storms,
He gently clears thy way;
Wait thou His time; so shall this night
Soon end in joyous day.
Still heavy is thy heart?
Still sink thy spirits down?
Cast off the weight, let fear depart,
Bid every care be gone.
What though thou rulest not!
Yet heaven, and earth, and hell
Proclaim, God sitteth on the throne,
And ruleth all things well.
--_Gerhard._
Where wilt thou put thy trust?
In a frail form of clay,
That to its element of dust
Must soon resolve away?
Where will thou cast thy care?
Upon an erring heart,
Which hath its own sore ills to bear,
And shrinks from sorrow's dart?
No! place thy trust above
This shadowy realm of night,
In Him, whose boundless power and love
Thy confidence invite.
His mercies still endure
When skies and stars grow dim,
His changeless promise standeth sure,
Go,--cast thy care on Him.
--_Mrs. Sigourney._
One there is above all others,
Well deserves the name of Friend;
His is love beyond a brother's,
Costly, free and knows no end.
Which of all our friends, to save us,
Could or would have shed his blood?
But our Jesus died to have us
Reconciled in Him to God.
When He lived on earth abasèd,
Friend of sinners was His name;
Now, above all glory raisèd,
He rejoices in the same.
Could we bear from one another
What He daily bears from us?
Yet this glorious Friend and Brother
Loves us though we treat Him thus.
Oh for grace our hearts to soften!
Teach us, Lord, at length to love!
We, alas! forget too often
What a Friend we have above.
--_Newton._
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up His vast designs,
And works His sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and will break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour,
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
--_Cowper._
Onward, Christian, though the region
Where thou art be drear and lone;
God has set a guardian legion
Very near thee; press thou on.
Listen, Christian; their hosanna
Rolleth o'er thee: "God is love,"
Write upon thy red-cross banner,
"Upward ever; heaven's above."
By the thorn-road, and none other,
Is the mount of vision won;
Tread it without shrinking, brother;
Jesus trod it; press thou on.
Be this world the wiser, stronger,
For thy life of pain and peace,
While it needs thee; oh! no longer
Pray thou for thy quick release.
Pray thou, Christian, daily rather,
That thou be a faithful son;
By the prayer of Jesus, "Father,
Not my will, but thine, be done."
--_Johnson._