by Dickens
Though dark and heavy sorrow
Doth cast on thee its spell,
And gloomy seems the morrow,
Remember "all is well;"
Though grief doth hover o'er thee,
And dark clouds lower,
Keep this sweet prayer before thee:
"Father, Thy will be done."
Though when life's bark seems freighted
With happiness for thee,
And with bright hopes elate,
Thy heart with joy may be,
Affliction's dark clouds lower,
And Grief thy heart doth stun,
Then pray, in that sad hour:
"Father, Thy will be done."
And when earth;s sorrows round thee,
Have fallen thick and fast;
When ties which long have bound thee
So fondly to the past,
All sundered are, yet alway
Whate'er to thee may come,
Submissive and resigned, pray:
"Father, Thy will be done."
Whatever in life's pathway
May come of good or ill,
Confiding, thy fond heart may
Bend to thy Father's will;
And when sadly thou doust grieve,
When all seems dark, yet one
Comfort's left for thee, to breathe
"Father, Thy will be done."
