In all thy life a single hair
Thou white or black ne'er turnest.
The griefs by which thou'rt sore distress'd
Can only serve to mar thy rest,
Cause anguish unavailing,
Thy life itself curtailing.
Wilt thou do what is for thy good,
And what thy God good seeth?
Then cast on Him each heavy load,
'Fore whom earth and heav'n fleeth.