The following lines were written hurriedly, just before the author left for the hospital, to undergo a major operation.
I am not strong, O Lord, nor greatly daring,
Like some who “waxed valiant in the fight,”
Nor in this hour am I Thine armor wearing
In glorious conflict for the cause of right.
If foes appear with malice and affrighting,
Issuing their challenge in this murky vale,
Why, Lord, I leave alone to Thee the fighting;
My part to watch — and tell the wondrous tale.
I rest in Thee, for, Savior, Thou art near me,
Nearer than darkness, pain and anxious care;
I feel Thy presence like a garment round me —
Within my heart Thy voice forbids all fear.
And just as child beside its mother sleeping,
Without a fret or fear rests all secure,
So I lie down within Thy tender keeping,
Hushed by the love that ever must endure.
All of the past that might rise up against me,
And with accusing tongue condemn my soul,
Lies ’neath the blood, and onward Thou dost lead me
T’where triumph songs in mighty waves shall roll.
Thy will, my God, oh, let it be accomplished —
Thy will the ending of all fleshly strife:
Thy name be praised and every evil vanquished —
In me Christ magnified in death or life.
J. T. Mawson