"THY WILL BE DONE."
When with unclouded ray
Shines the bright Sun,
When summer streamlets play,
And all around is gay,
Then shall the spirit say,
"Thy will be done?"
No.—When the flowers of love
Fade, one by one,
When in its blasted grove
The shuddering heart doth rove,
Then say, and look above
"Thy will be done."