H. Bonar

THY way, not mine, O Lord,

However dark it be;

Lead me by Thine own hand,

Choose out the path for me.


Smooth let it be, or rough,

It will be still the best;

Winding or straight it leads

Right onward to Thy rest.


I dare not choose my lot;

I would not if I might:

Choose Thou for me, my God,

So shall I walk aright.


Take Thou my cup, and it

With joy or sorrow fill,

As best to Thee may seem;

Choose Thou my good and ill.


Choose Thou for me my friends,

My sickness or my health;

Choose Thou my cares for me,

My poverty or wealth.


Not mine, not mine the choice,

In things or great or small;

By Thou my guide, my strength,

My wisdom and my all.


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