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	MY God and Father, while I stray    Far from my home in life’s rough way, O, teach me from my heart to say,     ‘Thy sovereign will be done.’
2	If Thou shouldst call me to resign What most I prize, it ne’er was mine, All I possess I have made Thine;     Thy loving will be done.
3	Now let my fainting heart be blest With Thy sweet Spirit for its guest, My God, to Thee I leave the rest:     Thy gracious will be done.
4	Renew my will from day to day; Blend it with Thine, and take away All that now makes it hard to say,     ‘Thy perfect will be done.’
5	Then, when on earth I breathe no more The prayer oft mixed with tears before, I’ll sing upon a happier shore,     ‘Thy glorious will be done!’
	Charlotte Elliott, 1789-1871‡