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And sacred Art has told, in pictures quaint,
What hideous forms & foul beset the saint,
In horrid, grewsome strife.

By victory o'er these ugly shapes of wrong,
What purity & power he gained, ere long!
Nor higher skill he lacked ---

To cheer sad souls, heal hearts, charm feuds
to peace,
To bid injustice & unkindness cease:
And thus he won the Life.

And now he bears the sacred (Tau) with those
Who keep the chosen way, despite of foes, --
Way of the Crucified.

And thou, Saint Anthony of modern days,
Hast thou not also trod the desert ways?
The fiends, that mock and rage,

Thou hast confronted in the halls of state,
In labor's market, and at college gate;
Yet none could make afraid.

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