Give Me Peace
I strove to win my great desire.
Peace shall be mine,
I said; but life
Grew bitter in the barren strife.
My soul was weary, and my pride
Was wounded deep; to Heaven I cried,
God grant me peace or I must die;
The dumb stars glittered no reply.
Broken at last, I bowed my head,
Forgetting all myself, and said,
Whatever comes, His will be done;
And in that moment peace was won.
—Henry van Dyke (1852–1933)
author of the text for the hymn Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee