I think that "fate" is like the wind that blows
And where it takes unwilling hearts, who knows?
That bitter wind blows on o'er land and sea,
Nor knows nor cares what 'ere becomes of me.
And swift as snapping twig t'will whip around
And place my seaborne feet upon dry ground,
And though my tears and pleadings whisper "nay",
The bitter wind will sternly bid, "Obey!".
Though master of my life I'd like to be,
The winds of "fate" control my destiny
And though my hand is on the helm to steer,
Another seems to point out my career.
So I reject the "winds of fate" so cruel.
Acknowledge I instead, another rule.
The Hand that guides my steps will not betray
But lead me on a far, far better way.
No more will I be tossed from sea to sea.
My guiding Hand will surely care for me,
And though the wind may whisper "hope has died,"
No terror or fear can tear me from His side.