Surrounded by unnumbered foes,
Against my soul the battle goes!
Yet, though I weary, sore distrest,
I know that I shall reach my rest.
I lift my tearful eyes above;
His banner over me is love.
Its sword my spirit will not yield,
Though flesh may faint upon the field;
He waves before my fading sight
The branch of palm--the crown of light;
I lift my brightening eyes above,
His banner over me is love.
My cloud of battle-dust may dim,
His veil of splendor curtain him,
And in the midnight of my fear
I may not feel him standing near;
But, as I lift mine eyes above,
His banner over me is love.
--Gerald Massey.