Columbus found a world, and had no chart,
Save one that faith deciphered in the skies;
To trust the soul's invincible surmise
Was all his science and his only art.
Our knowledge is a torch of smoky pine
That lights the pathway but one step ahead
Across a void of mystery and dread.
Bid, then, the tender light of faith to shine
By which alone the mortal heart is led
Unto the thinking of the thought divine.
GEORGE SANTAYANA.
* * * * *
THE FIGHT OF FAITH.
[The author of this poem, one of the victims of the
persecuting Henry VIII., was burnt to death at Smithfield
in 1546. It was made and sung by her while a prisoner in
Newgate.]
Like as the armed Knighte,
Appointed to the fielde.
With this world wil I fight,
And faith shal be my shilde.
Faith is that weapon stronge,
Which wil not faile at nede;
My foes therefore amonge,
Therewith wil I precede.
As it is had in strengthe,
And forces of Christes waye,
It wil prevaile at lengthe,
Though all the devils saye _naye_.
Faithe of the fathers olde
Obtained right witness,
Which makes me verye bolde
To fear no worldes distress.
I now rejoice in harte,
And hope bides me do so;
For Christ wil take my part,
And ease me of my we.
Thou sayst, Lord, whoso knocke,
To them wilt thou attende;
Undo, therefore, the locke,
And thy stronge power sende.
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