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SermonIndex.net : Christian Books : CONFLICT.

Hymns From The Land Of Luther by Jane Borthwick

CONFLICT.

CONFLICT.

10,9,10,9

|Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.| -- Psalm 43:5.

|Schoene Sonne, kommt du endlich wieder?|

Lange

transl., Jane Borthwick

Sun of comfort, art thou fled for ever?

Light of joy, wilt thou return at last?

Shall I sing again the song of morning,

When the watches of the night are past?

Ah! delay not, long-expected dawning!

Scatter the thick clouds and mist away,

Which so dark on feeling and devotion,

Over heart and memory rest to-day!

Weeping I have stood alone in darkness,

Gloomy cliffs above, and depths below

On the narrow pathway all forsaken,

Left to wrestle with the accusing Foe.

Doubt and unbelief, and, dark forebodings,

Fearful spectres gathering around,

Ah! my dizzy brain and foot were failing,

Tottering over the abyss profound!

Yet One held me back! An arm almighty,

Strong to save, as Satan to destroy!

From the giddy precipice He caught me,

Drew me from despair to life and joy

Jesus was my Helper! Saving mercy

Is His work, His glory, His delight;

Many a chain of darkness He has broken,

Changed to sunshine many a dismal night.

I will trust again His love, His power,

Though I can not feel His hand to-day;

To His help anew I will betake me,

Though His countenance seem turned away!

Though without one smile, one gracious token,

Through the flames and floods my path must go;

When the fires subside, the waves pass over,

My Deliverer I again shall know.

Yes, the light of comfort shall return,

Joy's sweet sun shall shine again at last;

I shall sing the gladsome song of morning,

When the watches of the night are past;

It shall reäppear, the welcome dawning,

Scattering the clouds and mist away,

Which so dark on feeling and devotion,

Over heart and memory rest to-day!

I shall find again the hopes long vanished,

Like the swallows when the storms are gone

Fountains shall be opened in the desert,

Streams by the wayside, while journeying on.

Flowers of love and promise shall be springing

Where the cruel thorn and wormwood sprung,

And the homeward path lie bright in sunshine,

Where my sad harp on the willows hung.

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