Resignation, a Hymn

My path, O Lord! is clouded o'er;
Lone, dreary, dark, appears my lot;
But while to me life smiles no more,
Although I mourn, I MURMUR NOT.

For oh! this broken, contrite heart,
Must in thy wrath thy justice own;
And though my tears in anguish start,
They flow from conscious sin alone.

Then though my path, is clouded o'er,
And gloom o'erhangs my future lot,
I bless and love thee more and more,
And though I mourn, I MURMUR NOT.

Yes! 'all thy waves have o'er me gone;
The weeds are wrapt about my head.
Thy water floods' are rolling on,
Thy thickest night is round me spread;

Yet still O Lord! in this dread hour,
With thankful heart, I meet my lot;
Thy justice own, my guilt deplore,
And though I mourn, I MURMUR NOT.