Conflicting Feelings

Strange and mys­te­ri­ous is my life.

What op­po­sites I feel with­in!

A sta­ble peace

a con­stant strife;

The rule of grace

the pow­er of sin:

Too oft­en I am cap­tive led

Yet dai­ly tri­umph in my Head

Yet dai­ly tri­umph in my Head.

I prize the pri­vi­lege of pray­er

But oh! what back­ward­ness to pray!

Though on the Lord I cast my care

I feel its bur­den ev­ery day;

I seek His will in all I do

Yet find my own is work­ing too

Yet find my own is work­ing too.

I call the pro­mis­es my own

And prize them more than mines of gold;

Yet though their sweet­ness I have known

They leave me un­im­pressed and cold

One hour up­on the truth I feed

The next I know not what I read

The next I know not what I read.

I love the ho­ly day of rest

When Je­sus meets His ga­thered saints;

Sweet day

of all the week the best!

For its re­turn my spir­it pants:

Yet often

through my un­belief

It proves a day of guilt and grief

It proves a day of guilt and grief.

While on my Sav­ior I re­ly

I know my foes shall lose their aim

And there­fore dare their pow­er de­fy

Assured of con­quest through His name

But soon my con­fi­dence is slain

And all my fears re­turn again

And all my fears re­turn again.

Thus dif­fer­ent pow­ers with­in me strive

And grace and sin by turns pre­vail;

I grieve

re­joice

de­cline

re­vive

And vic­to­ry hangs in doubt­ful scale:

But Je­sus has His pro­mise passed

That grace shall ov­er­come at last

That grace shall ov­er­come at last.