Frederick William Faber

Laud's Devotions

In stillest prayers and hours of holy thought
Thy spirit, dearest of the Martyr band!
Long time hath been with gravest influence fraught:
And oft, when sin is nigh, I feel thy hand—
A touch most cold and pure, of deepest dread,
Chastising dreams by youth and pleasure bred.
Teach me (for thou didst learn the lesson well
In hardness and in suffering) to restrain
Unquiet, fretful hopes, and weak disdain
Of worldly men who will not understand
The zeal and love that in such fierceness dwell.
Oh! Master, I would fear thee still, though pain
Her saintly power with filial joy doth blend,
And, were I holier, I would love thee as a friend.