“His sins be loosened who hath faith in me.”
Sir E. B. Lytton.
O, thou that rearest with celestial aim
Thy future seraph in my mortal frame,
Thrice holy Faith! whatever thorns I meet,
As on I totter with unpractised feet,
Still let me stretch my arms, and cling to thee,
Meek nurse of souls, through my long infancy!
Coleridge.
As evening’s pale and solitary star