“His Will Be Done”

With deepest founts of Love to drain
     They could not stay the fleeting breath;
The bolts of Science, hurled in vain,
     Fell harmless at the feet of Death.
A million prayers arose on high—
     Yet hope went downward with the sun,
As faintly came that farewell sigh:
     “It is God’s way—
                   His will be done!”

So passed a soldier brave and true;
     So passed a clean and loyal soul.
The right he ever kept in view,
     And pressed breast-forward to the goal.
This was a man—so loved, so wise!
     And when his splendid race was run
In simple faith he closed his eyes:
     “It is God’s way—
                   His will be done!”