O Lord, my best desire fulfill

And help me to resign,

Life, health, and comfort to thy will,

And make thy pleasure mine.

Why should I shrink at thy command,

Whose love forbids my fears?

Or tremble at the gracious hand

That wipes away my tears?

No, let me rather freely yield

What most I prize to thee;

Who never hast a good withheld,

Or wilt withhold from me.

Thy favor, all my journey through,

Thou art engaged to grant;

What else I want, or think I do,

’Tis better still to want.

Wisdom and mercy guide my way,

Shall I resist them both?

A poor blind creature of a day,

And crushed before the moth!

But ah! my inward spirit cries,

Still bind me to thy sway;

Else the next cloud that veils my skies,

Drives all these thoughts away.