Classic Poem

For Christ's dear sake with courage bear
Whatever ills betide;
Prosperity is oft a snare,
And puffs the heart with pride.

What seem'd thy loss, will often prove
To be thy truest gain;
And sufferings borne with patient love
A jewell'd crown obtain.

By this thou wilt the angels please,
Wilt glorify the Lord,
Thy neighbour's faith and hope increase,
And earn a rich reward.

Brief is this life, and brief its pain,
But long the bliss to come;
Trials endur'd for Christ attain
A place with martyrdom.

The Christian soul by patience grows
More perfect day by day;
And brighter still, and brighter glows
With Heav'n's eternal ray;

To Christ becomes more lovable,
More like the Saints on high;
Dear to the good; invincible
Against the Enemy.