Oh ye, who found in men's brief ways no sign <br />Of strength or help, so cast them forth, and threw <br />Your whole souls up to one ye deemed most true, <br />Nor failed nor doubted but held fast your line, <br />Seeing before you that divine face shine; <br />Shall we not mourn, when yours are now so few, <br />Those sterner days, when all men yearned to you, <br />White souls whose beauty made their world divine: <br /> <br />Yet still across life's tangled storms we see, <br />Following the cross, your pale procession led, <br />One hope, one end, all others sacrificed, <br />Self-abnegation, love, humility, <br />Your faces shining toward the bended head, <br />The wounded hands and patient feet of Christ.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-martyrs-2/
