When conscious of thy sin,
Its heavy weight upon thee,
Its mighty pow’r within:
Then is the hour for pleading
His finished work for thee:
Then is the time for singing,
His blood was shed for me.
When tempted to transgress,
By word or look of anger,
Or thought of bitterness:
Then is the hour for claiming
Thy Lord to fight for thee:
Then is the time for singing,
He doth deliver me.
When daily cares perplex,
And trifles seem so mighty
Thy inner soul to vex:
Then is the hour for grasping
His hand who walked the sea:
Then is the time for singing
He makes it calm for me.
When thou art wearied sore,
When head or hand refuses
To think or labor more:
Then is the hour for leaning
Upon the Master’s breast:
Then is the time for singing,
My Savior gives me rest.
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