Blindfolded and alone I stand,

With unknown thresholds on each hand;

The darkness deepens as I grope,

Afraid to fear, afraid to hope;

Yet this one thing I learn to know

Each day more surely as I go,

That doors are opened, ways are made,

Burdens are lifted or are laid,

By some great law unseen and still,

Unfathomed purpose to fulfill,

“Not as I will.”

*

Blindfolded and alone I wait.

Loss seems too bitter, gain too late;

Too heavy burdens in the load,

And too few helpers on the road;

And joy is weak, and grief is strong,

And years and days so long, so long;

Yet this one thing I learn to know

Each day more surely as I go—

That I am glad the good and ill

By changeless law are ordered still,

“Not as I will.”

*

“Not as I will!” the sound grows sweet

Each time my lips the words repeat.

“Not as I will,” the darkness feels

More safe than light when this thought steals

Like whispered voice to calm and bless

All unrest and all loneliness.

“Not as I will,” because the One

Who loved us first and best has gone

Before us on the road, and still

For us must all His love fulfill—

“Not as we will.”