Log in to make the most of Hymnary.org collections.
When in thine hour of conflict, Lord,
The tempter to thy soul was nigh,
Or when that bitter cup was poured
In thy deep garden-agony,—
Not then, when uttermost thy need,
Seemed light across thy soul to break;
No seraph form was seen to speed,
Nor yet the voice of comfort spake;
Till, by thine own triumphant word,
The victory over ill was won;
Until the voice of faith was heard,
“Thy will, O God, not mine, be done!”
Lord, bring those precious moments back,
When fainting against sin we strain;
Or in thy counsels fail to track
Aught but the present grief and pain.
In weakness, help us to contend;
In darkness, yield to God our will;
And true hearts, faithful to the end,
Cheer by thine holy angels still!
Source: A Book of Hymns for Public and Private Devotion (15th ed.) #215