Let me but hear my Savior say,

"Strength shall be equal to thy day,"

Then I rejoice in deep distress,

Leaning on all-sufficient grace.

I glory in infirmity,

That Christ's own power may rest on me:

When I am weak, then am I strong,

Grace is my shield, and Christ my song.

I can do all things, or can bear

All suff'rings, if my Lord be there;

Sweet pleasures mingle with the pains,

While his left hand my head sustains.

But if the Lord be once withdrawn,

And we attempt the work alone,

When new temptations spring and rise,

We find how great our weakness is.

[So Samson, when his hair was lost,

Met the Philistines to his cost;

Shook his vain limbs with sad surprise,

Made feeble fight, and lost his eyes.]