| I asked the Lord that I might grow
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| In faith and love, and ev’ry grace,
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| Might more of His salvation know,
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| And seek more earnestly His face.
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| 'Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
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| And He, I trust, has answered prayer,
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| But it has been in such a way
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| As almost drove me to despair.
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| I hoped that in some favoured hour
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| At once He’d answer my request
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| And, by His love’s constraining pow’r,
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| Subdue my sins, and give me rest.
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| Instead of this, He made me feel
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| The hidden evils of my heart
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| And let the angry pow’rs of hell
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| Assault my soul, in ev’ry part.
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| Yea, more with His own hand He seemed
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| Intent to aggravate my woe,
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| Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
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| Humbled my heart, and laid me low.
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| «Lord, why is this,» I trembling cried;
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| «Wilt Thou pursue Thy worm to death?»
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| «Tis in this way,» the Lord replied,
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| «I answer prayer for grace and faith.»
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| «These inward trials I employ
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| From self and pride to set thee free
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| And break thy schemes of earthly joy
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| That thou may’st find thy all in me.»
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| «And break thy schemes of earthly joy
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| That thou may’st find thy all in me.» |