Conflict with Self

The soul with­in me longs for rest

And sighs for Heav­en’s home;

Then shall I spurn the blest re­quest

And still in dark­ness roam?

Remember thou who spurn the light

To walk in Sa­tan’s wiles

The sha­dowy road to deep­est night

Is paved with af­ter-whiles.

Each one may to his Sav­ior go

Obedience is the sum;

Christ says in ac­cents sweet and low

Whoever will may come.

My soul in con­flict with my will

Is whis­per­ing

Be true;

My earth­ly man re­torts Be still

Some oth­er time will do.

Oh

why not en­ter now the fold

The Gos­pel trum­pet warns;

That you might wear a crown of gold

Christ wore a crown of thorns.