N the time of our youth

What a glory of truth

May encircle our brow as we muse!
Never darksome the day;

For, go whither we may,

We can brighten the light as we choose.

So intense and devout,

We are never without

Something great to be hoped for or done;
And are ready to bleed,

If we may but succeed,

And the battle for justice be won.

But this zeal may decay,

And our light fade away,

And the heart may grow misty and cold;

And the man at full

Be too wise to engage

age

In a battle excepting for gold.

What is all thou hast done

Flash thy sword in the sun,

And declare what thou one day wouldst do? Hadst thou rather now see

All the world serving thee,

Than by suffering serve God with the few?

Love's tower, it look'd high,
Seen by fancy's bright eye,

What a glorious structure to build!

But the cost, it proved vast,

And the labour must last

All thy life so thine ardour was chilled.

Saviour! who for the truth, At the close of thy youth Camest forth, and didst wondrously fight; Thou canst give what was thine,

Love and ardour divine:

Oh, renew us our youth with its light!