In all, thy glory I would seek,
And but for thee, Lord, would not speak;
I’d raise my voice in grateful lays,
Nor would I move but to thy praise.
I’d part with joys of earthly mould,
And pass through trials yet untold,
Could I but know my Lord was there,
And did each bitter cup prepare.
I’d love to drink it, and rejoice
To have thy will, dear Lord, my choice.