In the Hour of Trial
In the hour of trial, Jesus, plead for me, lest by base denial, I depart from Thee; When thou seest me waver, with a look recall, Nor for fear or favor suffer me to fall.
With forbidden pleasures would this vain world charm, or its sordid treasures spread to work my harm: Bring to my remembrance sad Gethsemane, or in darker semblance, cross-crowned Calvery.
Should Thy mercy send me sorrow, toil and woe, or should pain attend me on my path below, Grant that I may never fail Thy hand to see, grant that I may ever cast my care on Thee.
When, in dust and ashes, to the grave I sink, while heaven’s glory flashes o’er the shelving brink, On Thy truth relying thru that mortal strife, Lord, receive me, dying, to eternal life.