Hope

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Title:     Hope
Author: Frances Ridley Havergal [More Titles by Havergal]

WHAT though the blossom fall and die?
The flower is not the root;
The sun of love may ripen yet
The Master's pleasant fruit.

What though by many a sinful fall
Thy garments are defiled?
A Saviour's blood can cleanse them all;
Fear not! thou art His child.

Arise! and, leaning on His strength,
Thy weakness shall be strong;
And He will teach Thy heart at length
A new perpetual song.

Arise! to follow in His track
Each holy footprint clear,
And on an upward course look back
With every brightening year.

Arise! and on thy future way
His blessing with thee be!
His presence be thy staff and stay,
Till Thou His glory see.

[The end]
Frances Ridley Havergal's poem: Hope

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