Faith Is Like A Lily, Lifted High

Why Does The Sea Moan Evermore? Shut Out From Heaven It Makes Its Moan, It Frets Against The Boundary Shore; All Earth's Full Rivers Cannot Fill The Sea, That Drinking Thirsteth Still.

I Lock My Door Upon Myself, And Bar Them Out; But Who Shall Wall Self From Myself, Most Loathed Of All?

Spring's An Expansive Time: Yet I Don't Trust March With Its Peck Of Dust, Nor April With Its Rainbow-crowned Brief Showers, Nor Even May, Whose Flowers One Frost May Wither Thro' The Sunless Hours.

And Sometimes I Remember Days Of Old When Fellowship Seemed Not So Far To Seek, And All The World And I Seemed Much Less Cold, And At The Rainbow's Foot Lay Surely Gold, And Hope Felt Strong, And Life Itself Not Weak.

O Passing Angel, Speed Me With A Song, A Melody Of Heaven To Reach My Heart And Rouse Me To The Race And Make Me Strong.