 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE CHURCH.
The times are dark with danger,
The Church is wrapt in gloom;
The infidel and stranger
Are striving for her doom.
The guardians, whom she nourished,
Against her stand arrayed;
And friends, who by her flourished,
Have their high trust betrayed.
But shall she lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth?
The Church is wrapt in gloom;
The infidel and stranger
Are striving for her doom.
The guardians, whom she nourished,
Against her stand arrayed;
And friends, who by her flourished,
Have their high trust betrayed.
But shall she lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth?
Lo, she has stood for ages,
Unharmed through storms of strife;
And England's brightest pages,
Are written in her life.
In country she and city,
The champion of the poor;
And none who knock for pity,
Go empty from her door.
But shall she lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth?
Unharmed through storms of strife;
And England's brightest pages,
Are written in her life.
In country she and city,
The champion of the poor;
662
Go empty from her door.
But shall she lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth?
Yes, when the days were dreary,
She yet her comfort gave—
A refuge for the weary,
His freedom to the slave.
When came from woe and welter,
The cry of suffering weak,
Strong was her arm to shelter,
Ready her voice to speak.
But shall she lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth?
She yet her comfort gave—
A refuge for the weary,
His freedom to the slave.
When came from woe and welter,
The cry of suffering weak,
Strong was her arm to shelter,
Ready her voice to speak.
But shall she lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth?
We will not let her perish,
She shall not suffer ill;
Her loyal hearts shall cherish
The Mother they love still.
If foes against her sally,
In ever-deepening lines,
Her loyal hands shall rally,
Around their holy shrines.
She shall not lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth.
She shall not suffer ill;
Her loyal hearts shall cherish
The Mother they love still.
If foes against her sally,
In ever-deepening lines,
Her loyal hands shall rally,
Around their holy shrines.
She shall not lose her glory,
Her fair immortal youth,
The dear old Church of story,
The grand old Church of Truth.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |