My God, my Father, while I stray Far from home, on life's rough way, O teach me from my heart to say, 'Thy will be done.' Though dark my path and sad my lot, Let me be still and murmur not But breathe the prayer divinely taught, 'Thy will be done.' What though in lonely grief I sigh For friends beloved no longer nigh, Submissive still, would I reply, 'Thy will be done.' If thou shouldst call me to resign What most I prizeit ne'er was mine, I only yield Thee what was Thine 'Thy will be done.' If but my fainting heart be blest With thy sweet spirit for its guest, My God, to Thee I leave the rest 'Thy will be done.' Renew my will from day to day Blend it with Thine, and take away All that now makes it hard to say, 'Thy will be done.'