What Contradictions Meet

What con­tra­dict­ions meet

In min­is­ters’ em­ploy!

It is a bit­ter sweet

A sor­row full of joy:

No oth­er post af­fords a place

For eq­ual hon­or

or dis­grace!

Who can des­cribe the pain

Which faith­ful preach­ers feel;

Constrained to speak

in vain

To hearts as hard as steel?

Or who can tell the plea­sures felt

When stub­born hearts be­gin to melt?

The Sav­ior’s dy­ing love

The soul’s amaz­ing worth;

Their ut­most ef­forts move

And draw their bow­els forth:

They pray and strive

their rest de­parts

Till Christ be formed in sin­ners’ hearts.

If some small hope ap­pear

They still are not con­tent;

But

with a jea­lous fear

They watch for the event:

Too oft they find their hopes de­ceived

Then

how their in­most souls are grieved!

But when their pains suc­ceed

And from the ten­der blade

The rip­en­ing ears pro­ceed

Their toils are ov­er­paid:

No har­vest joy can eq­ual theirs

To find the fruit of all their cares.

On what has now been sown

Thy bless­ing

Lord

be­stow;

The pow­er is Thine alone

To make it spring and grow:

Do Thou the gra­cious har­vest raise

And Thou

alone

shalt have the praise.