The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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January 11
GOD DISPOSE |
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The Prisoner of Love | ||
12
January 11 GOD DISPOSE
“Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.”—
St. Matt. vi. 10.
Thy will be done, my Saviour! Joys or pangs
Are of Thy giving;
And if I must go through the burning fire
Or crucify this flesh, with Thee it hangs,
And every nail is but a quenched desire
That spoiled true living;
If men for Thee must suffer, make me one—
Thy will be done.
Are of Thy giving;
And if I must go through the burning fire
Or crucify this flesh, with Thee it hangs,
And every nail is but a quenched desire
That spoiled true living;
If men for Thee must suffer, make me one—
Thy will be done.
Thy will be done, my Master! And if friends
Mock or betray me,
And fortune flies and with it earthly weal,
I will believe that Love Eternal sends
Each loss to sign me better with Thy seal—
Although it slay me;
I ask for no great prize and portion none—
Thy will be done.
Mock or betray me,
And fortune flies and with it earthly weal,
I will believe that Love Eternal sends
Each loss to sign me better with Thy seal—
Although it slay me;
I ask for no great prize and portion none—
Thy will be done.
Thy will be done, my Shepherd! Let me drink
But of Thy Fulness,
And bear Thy blest reproaches as my part;
I shall not tremble on death's awful brink,
Nor feel when gathered to Thy broken Heart
Despair's cold dulness;
And if a crown of thorns be only won—
Thy will be done.
But of Thy Fulness,
And bear Thy blest reproaches as my part;
I shall not tremble on death's awful brink,
Nor feel when gathered to Thy broken Heart
Despair's cold dulness;
And if a crown of thorns be only won—
Thy will be done.
The Prisoner of Love | ||