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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‡