"THY WILL BE DONE"

ARCHIBALD LAWRENCE VAN ANTWERP.

The stubborn will and blind,
The engine deemed a pow'r by mortal sense,
That works within us—who can fathom whence
It comes, or who can find
The reason of its spell and seeming thrall,
That we should fail to hear or heed the call—
Thy will be done?

Amid the dark we grope,
And in the by-paths error makes we roam,
With ne'er a light to guide, afar from home
And rest, deprived of hope.
Eyes have we, but we never know their need;
And ears to hear the words we do not heed—
Thy will be done!

'Tis our own consciousness
Of evil and of sin that is the source
From whence these spring, and gain their seeming force
And all their bitterness.
The way is rough and hard—we make it so
Ourselves; and scarce can pray that here below
Thy will be done!

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