“It Is God’s Way; His Will—Not Ours,—Be Done!”

(The last words of William McKinley)

“It is God’s way; His will—not ours,—be done!”
     Slow syllables,—from which we backward start,
     A soldier-saying from a hero-heart,—
And lesson-laden for us, every one.

What is our way? With roses to o’erstrew
     An Eden-garden, where our loved may rest?
     To grow by struggle—wrestle to be blessed,—
Is God’s hard pathway for His daring few.

What is our will? A fickle, lazy sail,
     That veers and swerves in every passing flaw.
     What is God’s will? The enginery of Law,
That drives right onward, and that must prevail.

“It is God’s way,”—though Calvary be the end,—
     The martyr-spirit never shuns the Cross!
     The furnace frees the metal from the dross,—
The iron melts, that steel may learn to bend!

The Father knows the pathway for the son;
     His will is stern, but Love is overhead,
     Content we follow, and are comforted.
“It is God’s way; His will—not ours,—be done!”