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