Classic Poem

How sweet to be allowed to pray
To God, the holy One;
With filial love and trust to say,
“Father, thy will be done!”

We in these sacred words can find
A cure for every ill;
They calm and soothe the troubled mind,
And bid all care be still.

O let that will, which gave me breath,
And an immortal soul,
In joy or grief, in life or death,
My every wish control.

O could my heart thus every pray,
Thus imitate thy Son!
Teach me, O God, with truth to say,—
“Thy will, not mine, be done.”