What though in lonely grief I sigh
For friends beloved no longer nigh;
Submissive still would I reply,
Thy will be done.
Renew my will from day to day;
Blend it with Thine, and take away
Whate'er now makes it hard to say,
Thy will be done.
Then when on earth I breathe no more,
The prayer oft mixed with tears before,
I'll sing upon a happier shore,
Thy will be done."
Stanton, warm-hearted and genuine with all his faults, retired well
into the shadow of the hallway and looked at the singer through
the lenses of sympathetic tears.
"Poor orphan girl," he muttered. "What a villain a man would be
who could purpose harm to you!"
Van Berg, in accordance with his cooler and less demonstrative
nature, kept his position at her side, but he regarded her with
an expression of respect and interest that caused Ida Mayhew, who
was watching from her covert near, a sense of pain and envy that
surprised her by its keenness.
With a sudden longing which indicated that the wish came direct
from from her heart, she sighed:
"What would I not give to see him look at me with that expression
on his face!"
Then, startled by her own thought, so vivid had it been, she looked
around as if in fear it was apparent to her companion.
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