[NOT MINE]
Thy will, Thy way, not mine, O blessed Lord;
My will would choose the smooth and pleasant way,
And that might lead from duty's path astray;
Nay, I would walk "according to Thy word,"
Choosing Thy way, not mine.
Thy peace, my gracious Saviour, would I choose,
My peace might lead me man, not God, to please,
Might lure my soul to take its selfish ease,
And, gaining all the world, itself to lose,
Give me Thy peace, not mine.
Thy will, Thy way, Thy peace, Thou knowest best;
Let me but see the guiding of Thine eye,
Let me but know Thy voice, and swift reply
My soul shall make to every know behest,
Doing Thy will, not mine.
[IN THE DESERT]
Ah me! what life since hers in age agone
Hath not known Hagar's hour in desert wild;
Outcast from sheltering home, adrift, alone,
Bereft of love's sweet ministry, her child—
Her heart's one treasure—late so fond and fair,
Become a burden more than she could bear;
All earth and sky a strange enfolding scroll
Writ o'er with nameless pain and sense of need
To which nor pitying eye nor ear gave heed
Till came the thought of God. Even so the soul,
Consumed with vain regret and doubt and dread—
As she upon the barren sand her boy—
Lays all it once had counted hope and joy
Upon the desolate waste itself had spread;
Self-abnegating, tho with bitter cry—
"I yield thee, but I cannot see thee die."
But, passing thence, the agonizing plea
Faith transforms into tuneful harmony,
Glad to remember "Thou, God, seest me."