SACRED
Faith is no weakling, howsoe’er
It needeth courage for its task,
But strength whose confidence to dare
Is that which humbles it to ask
A higher help, a higher word
To lift it, bid it trust and try,
Assured its selfless prayer is heard,
Its task beneath a Master’s eye.
Faith is the reasoning of heart
Toward the Heart-of-hearts which beats
In unison with every part
Of all it quickens and completes;
And with a sense of love and plan
Sees only good from truth and right,
Wrong as the only ill which can
Defeat design and quench the light.
Faith is the fortifying gate
Which walls us in, our terrors out,
Through which we fare to conquer fate
Or flee for refuge from our doubt;
Faith blows the trumpet, mans the tower,
Inspires hope, believes in Heaven
And trusts the overruling Power
To care for what its will hath given.
Faith is the burden-bearer’s stay,
The footsore pilgrim’s trusty staff,
The victor’s martial panoply,
The martyr’s noblest epitaph.
Faith is the vision’s inner eye
Whose pupil is the seeing soul,
Its iris the reflected sky,
Its long perspective Spirit’s goal.