Take My Hand (II)

Strengthen me for every contest,
Let my prayers be not in vain,
I would bless Thee, in my sorrow;
I would glory in my pain;
Make my spirit white-for heaven;
Let my soul be purified
In the blood that flowed so freely,
From the wound in Jesus' side.

Gird my soul, oh! God! for battle,
I am weak, O! make me strong;
Do not let my courage falter,
Though the strife be fierce and long;
And upon thy hand, my Father,
Let me keep a clinging hold,
Till my feet have landed safely,
In the city built of gold.