I sat in the deep­en­ing twi­light,
With faith that was weak and dim;
The dear Sav­ior stood be­side me,
But I had no thought of Him.
My spir­it was wea­ry of sin­ning,
But blind­ed, my eyes could not see
The love of my sor­row­ing Sav­ior,
E’en then so near to me.

While think­ing o’er all of the sor­rows,
Transgressions per­formed each day,
How often I wan­dered and strayed from
The straight and nar­row way,
I moaned, O can I be His child—
His child? I wea­ri­ly cried;
Then un­to my sad and lone­ly heart
The Sav­ior sweet­ly re­plied:

My child, thy strength can­not con­quer
The daily al­lures of sin;
’Tis on­ly My grace that can help thee
Life’s vic­t’ries to brave­ly win.
Trust not in thy­self, weak and help­less,
And long­ing from sin to be free,
But look up, My child, and re­mem­ber
My grace is suf­fi­cient for thee.

Then turned I away from the dark­ness,
Full la­den with faith and cheer;
If on­ly I’d known thro’ that sad day
The dear Sav­ior ev­er was near;
And now, when my spir­it grows wea­ry,
And thick, hea­vy mists there may be,
The lov­ing and beau­ti­ful words I’ll hear:
My grace is suf­fi­cient for thee.