Фредерик Уильям Фабер (Frederick William Faber)
Текст оригинала на английском языке
In stillest prayers and hours of holy thought Thy spirit, dearest of the Martyr band! Long time hath been with gravest influence fraught: And oft, when sin is nigh, I feel thy hand— A touch most cold and pure, of deepest dread, Chastising dreams by youth and pleasure bred. Teach me (for thou didst learn the lesson well In hardness and in suffering) to restrain Unquiet, fretful hopes, and weak disdain Of worldly men who will not understand The zeal and love that in such fierceness dwell. Oh! Master, I would fear thee still, though pain Her saintly power with filial joy doth blend, And, were I holier, I would love thee as a friend.
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