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The headstrong world, it presses hard
Upon the Church full oft, And then how easily Thou turn'st
The hard ways into soft.
I love to kiss each print where Thou Hast set Thine unseen feet;
I cannot fear Thee, blessed Will! Thine empire is so sweet.
When obstacles and trials seem
Like prison-walls to be, I do the little I can do,
And leave the rest to Thee.
I know not what it is to doubt;
My heart is ever gay ; I run no risk, for come what will,
Thou always hast Thy way.
I have no cares, O blessed Will!
For all my cares are Thine; I live in triumph, Lord ! for Thou
Hast made Thy triumphs mine.
And when it seems no chance or change
From grief can set me free, Hope finds its strength in helplessness,
And gayly waits on Thee