Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/In Suffering

In Suffering.

Father, Thy will, not mine, be done;
So prayed on earth Thy suffering Son;
So in His name I pray.
The spirit faints, the flesh is weak,
Thy help in agony I seek,
Oh! take this cup away.

If such be not Thy sovereign will,
Thy wiser purpose then fulfil;
My wishes I resign;
Into Thy hands my soul commend,
On Thee for life or death depend;
Thy will be done, not mine.