When I consider, Lord, Thy perfect will

When I consider, Lord, Thy perfect will,
How form'd to make the miserable blest,
To guide each wish, — each wayward passion still,
And calm sin's sad disquietudes to rest:
When I consider, too, Thy perfect love
That reigns harmonious round Thy peaceful throne,
Where thoughts, and feelings, all in union move,
And know no will — no wisdom but Thine own: —
And when I turn to earth, whence man should raise,
Feebler it may be, but like notes of praise,
And discord find, — where every heart should be
All peace, all love, all perfect harmony; —
My soul's first feeling and last prayer are one,
Lord, as in heav'n, in earth " Thy will be done."