He had promised to himself in the morning to be at home early, having overcome all his enemies--but 'the noise of battle is yet in the country where I live.' He is sometimes afraid even that he has not yet received 'efficacious grace,' and that his sins may yet win the day. What can he do but pray God to lift him out of the pit? And even if it is growing late, he must wait until 'the Morning Star rise over yonder hills.' His trial, too, had bound him in sweet fellowship with all who strive upward to God:
| 44 Much I love the faithful pilgrims, Who the rugged steeps ascend; On their hands and knees they labour To attain the heavenly end: To the summit On my knees shall I come too. | | Bruisèd hands, oh! stretch ye upward, Tired feet, walk ye with care; The reward, the crown is yonder, My Belovèd--He is there! Earth forsaking; Now the journey's end is all. | |