Thy will be done! I will not fear
The lot 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' eternal years?
Father, forgive the heart that clings,
Thus trembling, to the things of time;
And bid me, as on eagle wings,
Ascend into a purer clime.
O let not doubts disturb its trust,
Nor sorrows dim its heav'nly love;
Nor these afflictions of the dust
My inmost calm and peace remove.