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O for a faith that will not shrink,
Tho' pressed by ev'ry foe;
That will not tremble on the brink
Of any earthly woe;
That will not murmur nor complain
Beneath the chast'ning rod,
But in the hour of grief or pain
Will lean upon its God;
A faith that shines more bright and clear
When tempests rage without;
That 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 seas of trouble cannot drown,
Nor Satan's arts beguile;
A faith that keeps the narrow way,
Till life's last hour is fled,
And with a pure and steady ray
Illumes a dying bed.
Lord, lead me to a faith like this,
Through trial though it be;
For O! the rest of faith is bliss,
The bliss of rest in thee.