My God, my Father, while I stray

Far from my home in life's rough way,

O teach me from my heart to say,

Though dark my path, and sad my lot,

Let me be still and murmur not,

Or breathe the prayer divinely taught,

What though in lonely grief I sigh

For friends beloved, no longer nigh,

Submissive still would I reply,

If thou shoulds't call me to resign

What most I prize, it ne'er was mine:

I only yield thee what is thine;

Let but my fainting heart be blest

With thy good Spirit for its guest,

My God, to thee I leave the rest;

Renew my will from day to day,

Blend it with thine, and take away

All that now makes it hard to say,

Then, when on earth I breathe no more

The prayer oft mixed with tears before,

I'll sing upon a happier shore,

"Thy will be done!"

Amen.