The Warfare.
Temptations are presented, and we yield e’er we’re aware,
And again become entangled in the tempter’s subtle snare;
Our warring passions raging, with the sound of battle din,
Though outward foes in arms array, this warfare is within.
There’s hatred, pride and unbelief, and many evils there,
And our besetting sins oft battle faith and humble prayer;
Thus wasted are our energies, our strength and nobler powers,
And we ourselves deprive of joys, which otherwise were ours.
Poor, wretched, miserable and blind, how vain our boastings all;
Our misspent moments, worse than lost, we never can recall.
The good we might have done, had we obeyed each precept given,
Will be a blank, and less will be our crowns of joy in Heaven.
Why wound our souls? Why take the gall perverted tastes to please,
When nought but Jesus’ dying blood, God’s anger can appease?
Like Peter we deny our Lord, and spurn his tender care;
Such base ingratitude as this, who but a God could bear?
Most deeply must we feel and weep, ere Christ will on us look,
And bless us with the assurance, that our names are in life’s book;
He knows our frailties and is touched with penitential tears;
’Tis just like Jesus to forgive, and banish all our fears.
Such depths of love, such pity, too, should make us prostrate fall
Before our King whom we should crown forever “Lord of all;”
And when we’re freely justified, continued help we crave,
Our strength is weakness, and ourselves from sin we cannot save.
Thy mission here was, Lord, to save thy people from their sins,
And here if e’er we overcome, is where our hope begins.
Through Christ alone the victory’s gained, and nothing can we merit;
If we are overcomers, we in him all things inherit.
Not unto us, but Lord to thee, the glory shall be given;
It is the noblest song on earth, ’twill noblest be in Heaven;
No warring passions to unstring the holy, heavenly lyre,
At the loss of all things here, would I be one in that blest choir.