 | Sacra Poesis |  |
FAITH.
Faith,—I see thy mantle gory
In the martyr's blessed fight,—
Faith,—thou art the Christian's glory
Thou the buckler of his might—
Nerv'd, upheld, and sav'd by faith,
The Christian does not dread the death.
In the martyr's blessed fight,—
Faith,—thou art the Christian's glory
Thou the buckler of his might—
Nerv'd, upheld, and sav'd by faith,
The Christian does not dread the death.
Though the waves are roaring round him,
The tempestuous waves of life,
The stormy seas shall not confound him,
Raging in their sullen strife:
Faith shall be his rudder still
To guide him safe thro' every ill.
The tempestuous waves of life,
The stormy seas shall not confound him,
Raging in their sullen strife:
Faith shall be his rudder still
To guide him safe thro' every ill.
Not the tainted gales of pleasure,
Like the calm deceitful sea,
Not the golden smiles of treasure
Shall allure his heart from thee.
Though the whirlpool foams around,
His anchor still shall bite the ground.
Like the calm deceitful sea,
Not the golden smiles of treasure
Shall allure his heart from thee.
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His anchor still shall bite the ground.
Many a hidden rock of danger
Lurks beneath the tranquil wave,
Pleasure smiling tempts “the stranger,”
Beckoning onwards to his grave:
Pilgrims, strangers, still they roam,
Christians longing for their home.
Lurks beneath the tranquil wave,
Pleasure smiling tempts “the stranger,”
Beckoning onwards to his grave:
Pilgrims, strangers, still they roam,
Christians longing for their home.
But the compass yet directs him,
Pointing to “the narrow way,”
Where a heaven of bliss expects him
Thro' an everlasting day!
Faith is still the Christian's strength,
Guiding him to joy at length.
Pointing to “the narrow way,”
Where a heaven of bliss expects him
Thro' an everlasting day!
Faith is still the Christian's strength,
Guiding him to joy at length.
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