Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.
By Hymns. IV. “He sendeth sun, He sendeth shower”Sarah Flower Adams (1805–1848)
H
Alike they’re needful for the flower;
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! Thy will, not mine, be done.
With murmurs, whom they trust and love?
Creator! I would ever be
A trusting, loving child to Thee:
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! Thy will, not mine, be done.
Enough that Thou hast made it mine.
When falls the shadow cold of death,
I yet will sing with parting breath,
As comes to me or shade or sun,
Father! Thy will, not mine, be done.