In St. Luke's Gospel we are told <br />How Peter in the days of old <br />Was sifted; <br />And now, though ages intervene, <br />Sin is the same, while time and scene <br />Are shifted. <br /> <br />Satan desires us, great and small, <br />As wheat to sift us, and we all <br />Are tempted; <br />Not one, however rich or great, <br />Is by his station or estate <br />Exempted. <br /> <br />No house so safely guarded is <br />But he, by some device of his, <br />Can enter; <br />No heart hath armor so complete <br />But he can pierce with arrows fleet <br />Its centre. <br /> <br />For all at last the cock will crow, <br />Who hear the warning voice, but go <br />Unheeding, <br />Till thrice and more they have denied <br />The Man of Sorrows, crucified <br />And bleeding. <br /> <br />One look of that pale, suffering face <br />Will make us feel the deep disgrace <br />Of weakness; <br />We shall be sifted till the strength <br />Of self-conceit be changed at length <br />To meekness. <br /> <br />Wounds of the soul, though healed, will ache; <br />The reddening scars remain, and make <br />Confession; <br />Lost innocence returns no more; <br />We are not what we were before <br />Transgression. <br /> <br />But noble souls, through dust and heat, <br />Rise from disaster and defeat <br />The stronger, <br />And conscious still of the divine <br />Within them, lie on earth supine <br />No longer.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ultima-thule-the-sifting-of-peter/
