O for a faith that will not shrink
Though pressed by every foe,
That will not tremble on the brink
Of any earthly woe!
That will not murmur nor complain
Beneath the chastening rod,
But in the hour of grief or pain
Will lean upon its God;
A faith that shines more bright and clear
When tempests rage without;
That when in danger knows no fear.
In darkness feels no doubt;
That bears, unmoved, the world's dread frown,
Nor heeds its scornful smile;
That seas of trouble cannot drown,
Nor Satan's arts beguile.
Lord, give us such a faith as this,
And then, whate'er may come,
We'll taste, e'en here, the hallowed bliss
Of an eternal home.
--William H. Bathurst.
Who liveth best? Not he whose sail,
Swept on by favoring tide and gale,
Swift wins the haven fair;
But he whose spirit strong doth still
A victory wrest from every ill;
Whose faith sublime
On every cloud a rainbow paints--
'Tis he redeems the time.