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A PRAYER FOR HELP

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 5, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 6.

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A PRAYER FOR HELP.

By T. R. Williamson

Up to the throne of God I lift My heart in fervent prayer, The stormy skies without a rift Of bright blue anywhere Drop down upon the world their gloom, Low-hanging, somber, deep, Spirit of faith, come, quickly come, My groping soul now keep.
The battle is against me here, My hand unclasp its hold; Valor’s true weapon, Faith’s bright spear, From my weak grasp has rolled; The thongs and gyves of slavish fear Are locking heart and arm. Spirit of courage, hear, O hear! And rescue me from harm.
Spirit of hope, down through the night Shine clear and bright and strong, And, heavenward led by Thy true light, I’ll march on with a song. The gloom again shall yield to morn Just as in all the past, The skies in brightening grandeur burn; No night can always last.
Spirit of love, thy warmth enwraps My senses chilled and weak; New ardor mounts, new purpose shapes, God’s promptings in me speak. Spirit of Jesus, friend and guide, Holy and pure and free, Tower of strength, O let me hide My frailty all in Thee.
Oakland, Cal. T. R. WILLIAMSON.