That I, whate’er my station, still
May seek my Joy in Duty:
Send Light, And Might,
That each measure, Scheme and pleasure,
Heavenward tending,
Still in Thee may find its ending.
Keep grief, if this may be, away,—
If not, Thy Will be done, I say,
My choice to Thine resigning;
O come, and like the morning dew,