XXXIV.
My Father! all my times are in thy hand!
Though floods arise, thou’lt bear me safely through,
And though thy ways I cannot understand,
Whatever pleases thee, shall please me too.
Though thou with thorns shalt all my pathway strew,
I’ll sweetly rest when life’s short day is o’er,
And bless the hand which me to Heaven drew;
Then far above this weary world I’ll soar,
And through eternity I’ll triumph and adore.