Wilt Thou, Oh My Father, Leave Me?

Wilt Thou, Oh my Father, leave me?
Still I'll bless thy holy will;
I may lose, but will not grieve Thee;
I will love Thee still.

Long and sharply dost Thou chide me;
I am filled with grief and shame;
But  I have no joy beside Thee,
Loving still, the same.

Like the sun-flower, ever turning
Meekly to the skies its face;
Still my heart for Thee is burning,
Though Thou hid'st thy grace.

Thus my Father heard me praying;
Drawing near, once more He smiled;
Joyfully I heard Him saying,
Thou art still my child.

I did leave thee but to try thee;
Trying, I have found thee mine;
Now I always will be nigh thee;
All I have is thine.

— American Cottage Life (1850).