What wouldst thou, trembling soul?
Strength for the strife,—
Strength for this fiery war
That we call Life.
Fears gather thickly round;
Shadowy foes,
Like unto armed men,
Around me close.
What am I, frail and poor,
When griefs arise?
What wouldst thou, trembling soul?
Strength for the strife,—
Strength for this fiery war
That we call Life.
Fears gather thickly round;
Shadowy foes,
Like unto armed men,
Around me close.
What am I, frail and poor,
When griefs arise?