Let good or ill befall

Teach me. Lord, my true condition; Bring me childlike to Thy knee; Stripped of every low ambition, Willing to be led by Thee.

Haste thee on from grace to glory, Armed by faith and winged by prayer, Heaven's eternal day's before thee; God's own hand shall guide thee there.

I need Thy presence every passing hour; What, but Thy grace, can foil the tempter's power? Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me!

A scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand, I march on in haste through an enemy's land; The road may be rough, but it cannot be long; And I'll smooth it with hope, and I'll cheer it with song.

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.