L. M. 6 lines.
Thy will be done.
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower;
Alike they’re needful for the flower;
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment:
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father, thy will, not mine, be done!
2 Can loving children e’er reprove
With murmurs whom they trust and love?