1  I take my portion from Thy hand,

    And do not seek to understand;

    For I am blind, while Thou dost see,

    Thy will is mine, whate'er it be.

 2  When darkness doth Thy face obscure,

    And many sorrows I endure,

    I think of Christ's Gethsemane;

    Thy will is mine, whate'er it be.

 3  When tender joys to me are known,

    I render thanks to Thee alone;

    I know my cup is filled by Thee;

    Thy will is mine, whate'er it be.

 4  Thus calmly do I face my lot,

    Accept it, Lord, and doubt Thee not;

    Lo! All things work for good to me;

    Thy will is mine, whate'er it be.