I have not shunned my task
Early or late;
I have not turned to ask
“Wherefore?” of fate.
Only one cry went up,
Hopeless at length—
“Father! to drink thy cup
Grant me thy strength.”
Now at the last I stand
Waiting from heaven,
I have not shunned my task
Early or late;
I have not turned to ask
“Wherefore?” of fate.
Only one cry went up,
Hopeless at length—
“Father! to drink thy cup
Grant me thy strength.”
Now at the last I stand
Waiting from heaven,