When wrestling with the visions dark of sense,
We may not always clearly see and trace
The measures full and workings of God's grace;
Yet in the blackest hour, the false pretense
Of error's power is but a dream, immense
Perhaps, to human thought, and yet untrue.
To know this fact fore'er presents for you
And me, against the foe, a sure defense.
When storm and stress of contest ends, with joy
We rise, beholding then the vision fair
Of God's own thoughts, where error seemed to be.
Such overcoming shows naught can destroy
Aught of the good God knows, nor e'en impair
God's man—the image of His purity.
