W. Cowper

L.M.

WHAT various hindrances we meet

In coming to the mercy-seat!

Yet who that knows the worth of prayer

But wishes to be often there?

2

Prayer makes the darkened cloud withdraw;

Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw;

Gives exercise to faith and love;

Brings every blessing from above.

3

Restraining prayer, we cease to fight;

Prayer makes the Christian’s armor bright:

And Satan trembles when he sees

The weakest saint upon his knees.

4

Have you no words? Ah, think again:

Words flow apace when you complain,

And fill your fellow-creature’s ear

With the sad tale of all your care.

5

Were half the breath thus vainly spent,

To heaven in supplication sent,

Your cheerful song would oftener be,

“Hear what the Lord hath done for me.”