Oh, for a faith that will not shrink,
Though pressed by many foes,
That will not tremble on the brink
Of poverty or woes.
Of poverty or woes.

That will not murmur not complain
Beneath the chast’ning rod,
But, in the hour of grief or pain,
Can lean upon its God.
Can lean upon its God.

A faith that shines more bright and clear,
when tempests rage without;
That, when in danger, knows no rear,
In darkness feels no doubt.
In darkness feels no doubt.

That bears unmoved the world's dread frown
Nor heeds its scornful smile
That sins wild ocean cannot drown
Nor Satan's arts beguile.
Nor Satan's arts beguile.

A faith that keeps the narrow way
Till life's spark is fled
And with a pure and heav’nly ray
Lights up the dying bed.
Lights up the dying bed.

Lord, give us such a faith as this,
And then, whate’er may come,
We'll taste e'en now the hallowed bliss
Of an eternal home.
Of an eternal home.