In daily watch before our gates;
On earth the cross is borne by all,
All feel its weight, and taste its gall;
But shall we therefore cast away
The Christian's light? I tell thee—nay.
The saints, who to their Saviour cleave,
In faith and in the Spirit live,
Unhurt by any ill or woe
Pass through their pilgrimage below;
Though things may sometimes fall out ill