SORROW of saints is sorrow of a day, Gladness of saints is gladness evermore: Send on thy hope, send on thy will before, To chant God's praise along the narrow way. Stir up His praises if the flesh would sway, Exalt His praises if the world press sore, Peal out His praises if black Satan roar A hundred thousand lies to say them nay. Devil and Death and Hades, threefold cord Not quickly broken, front thee to thy face; Front thou them with a face of tenfold flint: Shout for the battle, David! never stint Body or breath or blood, but, proof in grace, Die for thy Lord, as once for thee thy Lord. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS MEMORY by HAYDEN CARRUTH EMERGENCY HAYING by HAYDEN CARRUTH QUESTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TRANSPOSITIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM NORTH WIND TO DUTIFUL BEAST MIDWAY BETWEEN DIAL & FOOT OF GARDEN CLOCK by MARIANNE MOORE |