The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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January 10
THY WILL MY WAY |
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 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
11
January 10 THY WILL MY WAY
“If this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it,
thy will be done.”—St. Matt. xxvi. 42.
Thy will be done, my Saviour! Let me lie,
Calm in Thy keeping;
For Thou art Love and Wisdom, and I know
Whether I live this coming hour or die,
Thy Guardian Hands are round me and below,
Waking or sleeping;
And though I were Thy humblest I am one—
Thy will be done.
Calm in Thy keeping;
For Thou art Love and Wisdom, and I know
Whether I live this coming hour or die,
Thy Guardian Hands are round me and below,
Waking or sleeping;
And though I were Thy humblest I am one—
Thy will be done.
Thy will be done, my Master! It is sweet
To feel Thy Nearness
Always, when others I so often miss;
To be allowed to bathe Thy blessed Feet
In costly tears, and sometimes kneel and kiss
Their Divine dearness;
If every gift were pain and pleasure none—
Thy will be done.
To feel Thy Nearness
Always, when others I so often miss;
To be allowed to bathe Thy blessed Feet
In costly tears, and sometimes kneel and kiss
Their Divine dearness;
If every gift were pain and pleasure none—
Thy will be done.
Thy will be done, my Shepherd! In Thy fold,
When it is sorrow,
I am content to famish or to feed;
For Thou art Present in the dark and cold,
And with Thy Riches nothing more I need,
Nor dread the morrow;
Whether the weary fight be lost or won—
Thy will be done.
When it is sorrow,
I am content to famish or to feed;
For Thou art Present in the dark and cold,
And with Thy Riches nothing more I need,
Nor dread the morrow;
Whether the weary fight be lost or won—
Thy will be done.
| The Prisoner of Love | |