Pray for me; the climbing here below
is rough for me, distractable and slow.
So filled with self that shadows seem more strong
than light itself, and darkness all I know.
Pray for me, as shadows still wax long;
the lingering serpent bids me still to wrong.
Pray my wandering heart would turn to prayer,
that dark of night would fill my lips with song.
Closer to that mountain bright and fair,
further on that sanctifying stair,
help me find the way that I must go,
that Jesus Christ might be my only care.
Pray for me, that I in prayer might grow;
Christ to me, as me to Christ, you show.
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