O for a faith that will not shrink,
Tho’ pressed by many a foe;
That will not tremble on the brink,
Of poverty or woe.
Tho’ pressed by many a foe;
That will not tremble on the brink,
Of poverty or woe.
That will not murmur or complain,
Beneath the chast’ning rod;
But in the hour of grief or pain,
Can lean upon its God.
A faith that shines more bright and clear,
When rage without;
Then 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 sins wild ocean cannot drown,
Nor its soft arts beguile.
Lord, give me such a faith as this,
And then what’er may come;
I’ll taste e’en here the hallowed bliss,
Of eternal home.