Time was, I shrank from what was right,
From fear of what was wrong;
I would not brave the sacred fight,
Because the foe was strong.
But now I cast that finer sense
And sorer shame aside;
Such dread of sin was indolence,
Such aim at heaven was pride.
So, when my Saviour calls, I rise,
And calmly do my best;
Leaving to Him, with silent eyes
Of hope and fear, the rest.
I step, I mount where He has led;
Men count my haltings o’er;—
I know them; yet, though self I dread,
I love his precept more.
And calmly do my best; Leaving to Him, with silent eyes Of hope and fear, the rest. I step, I mount where He has led; very fine thoughts. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem of faith and trust in his Saviour, Jesus. 'I rise/ And calmly do my best'. That is all you can do. He may dread his own faults, but ' I love his precept more'. Newman's poem inspires me to keep the faith.