In prison, when the early saints
Wore despotism's chains,
'Twas Faith that silenced their complaints,
In solacing their pains.

Not that they had no power to feel,
No sense of wrong, to tears;
But God was near, their griefs to heal,
And dissipate their fears.

'Tis unbelief, that gives its smart,
Its anguish to the rod;
Grief has no terror for the heart,
That puts its trust in God.

'Only believe!' and thou shalt know,
To every ill resign'd,
Whatever strength may wield the blow,
It leaves no wound behind.