WHENE'ER across this sinful flesh of mine I draw the Holy Sign, All good thoughts stir within me, and renew Their slumbering strength divine; Till there springs up a courage high and true To suffer and to do. And who shall say, but hateful spirits around, For their brief hour unbound, Shudder to see, and wail their overthrow? While on far heathen ground Some lonely Saint hails the fresh odour, though Its source he cannot know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CORN SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR CITY TREES by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY IMAGES: 5 by RICHARD ALDINGTON ON FEATHER BEDS by JOHN ARMSTRONG THE WOOD-CUTTERS WIFE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A FRAGMENT by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN INTO THE HEART OF LIFE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON FAR DISTANCES by HENRY WILLIAM CLARK THE MUSIC OF THE WORLD AND OF THE SOUL by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |