Not in dumb resignation We lift our hands on high; Not like the nerveless fatalist Content to trust and die; Our faith springs like the eagle, That soars to meet the sun; And cries exultingly to Thee, ?O Lord, Thy will be done!? Thy will! It strengthens weakness, It bids the strong be just; No lip to fawn, no hand to beg, No brow to seek the dust; Wherever man oppresses man Beneath Thy liberal sun, O Lord, be there, Thine arm made bare, Thy righteous will be done!
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