And shall I fear
That there is anything that men hold dear
Thou would’st deprive me of
And nothing give in place?
That is not so —
For I can see Thy face
And hear Thee now:
“My child, I died for thee.
And if the gift of love and life
You took from Me,
Shall I one precious thing withhold —
One beautiful and bright
One pure and precious thing withhold?
My child, it cannot be.”
– Betty Stam –