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My faith, it is an oaken staff,
The traveler’s well loved aid;
My faith, it is a weapon stout,
The soldier’s trusty blade,
I’ll travel on, and still be stirred,
By silent thought or social word;
By all my perils undeterred,
A soldier pilgrim staid.
I have a captain, and the heart
Of every private man
Has drunk in valóur from His eyes,
Since first the war began.
He is most merciful in fight,
And of His scars a single sight
The embers of our falling night
Into a flame can fan.
I have a Guide, and in His steps
When travelers have trod,
Whether beneath was flinty rock
Or yielding grassy sod,
They cared not, with force unspent,
Unmoved by pain, they onward went,
Unstayed by pleasures, still they bent
Their zealous course to God.
My faith, it is an oaken staff,
O let me on it lean!
My faith, it is a trusty sword,
May falsehood find it keen!
Thy Spirit, Lord, to me impart,
O make me what Thou ever art,
Of patient and courageous heart,
As all true saints have been.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 8 8 8 6
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1855
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Bible Refs:
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Eph 6:16-17;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1962 | # 548 | | 1983 | # 682 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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THE STAFF OF FAITH
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 8 8 8 6
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 548 | Eb |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
