|165 - Are ye able?|
Are ye able, said the Master,
To be crucified with Me?
Yea, the sturdy dreamers answered,
To the death we follow Thee.
Lord, we are able, our spirits are Thine.|
Remold them, make us, like Thee, divine.
Thy guiding radiance above us shall be
A beacon to God, to love and loyalty.
Are you able to relinquish|
Purple dreams of power and fame,
To go down into the garden,
Or to die a death of shame?
Are ye able, when the anguish|
Racks your mind and heart with pain,
To forgive the souls who wrong you,
Who would make your striving vain?
Are ye able to remember,|
When a thief lifts up his eyes,
That his pardoned soul is worthy
Of a place in paradise?
Are ye able when the shadows|
Close around you with the sod,
To believe that spirit triumphs,
To commend your soul to God?
Are ye able? Still the Master|
Whispers down eternity,
And heroic spirits answer,
Now as then in Galilee.