codex002489-071r

Faith. EW Wilcox.

I will not doubt, tho all my ships at sea
Come drifting home, with broken masts and sails
I shall believe the Hand - which never fails -
From seeming evil, worketh good for me.
And tho' I weep, because those sails, are battered
Still will I cry, while my best hopes be shattered
I trust to Thee.
I will not doubt, tho' all my prayers return
Unanswered, from the still white realm above.
I shall beliieve it is an all wise love.
Which has refused those things for which I yearn,
And tho' at times, I cannot keep from grieving
Yet, the pure ardor of my fixed believing
Undimmed shall burn.
I will not doubt, tho sorrow fall like rain
And troubles swarm, like bees, about a hive
I shall believe the heights for which I strive
Are only reached by anguish, & by pain
and tho' I groan, and tremble with my losses
I yet shall see thro' my severest crosses,
The greater gain.