241. L. M. Doddridge. Christ's Submission to his Father's Will.

1 |Father divine,| the Saviour cried,
While horrors pressed on every side,
And prostrate on the ground he lay,
|Remove this bitter cup away.

2 |But if these pangs must still be borne
Or helpless man be left forlorn,
I bow my soul before thy throne,
And say, Thy will, not mine, be done.|

3 Thus our submissive souls would bow,
And, taught by Jesus, lie as low;
Our hearts, and not our lips alone,
Would say, Thy will, not ours, be done.

4 Then, though like him in dust we lie,
We'll view the blissful moment nigh,
Which, from our portion in his pains,
Calls to the joy in which he reigns.