a poem

From prayer that asks that I may be
Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,
From fearing when I should aspire,
From faltering when I should climb higher,
From all that dims Thy Calvary,
O Lamb of God, deliver me.

From subtle love of softening things
From easy choices, weakenings
(Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified)
From silken self, O Captain, free
Thy soldier who would follow Thee.

Give me the love that leads the way,
The faith that nothing can dismay,
The hope no disappointments tire,
The passion that will burn like fire -
Let me not sink to be a clod:
Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God.
 
Amy Carmichael