Let not faith grow frailer in growing more old,
But fervent – fermenting like finely-aged wine.
Let pressure of prison and pain make us bold.
The fire of trials makes gold more refined.
Remember the saints who have suffered before,
Those slaughtered and sawed through and set on by beasts.
Courageously they kept the call of the Lord,
And God turned to glory each one of their griefs.
Pursue then the promise of God certainly;
Your faith is the substance of what we received.
And Christ will come quickly, crowned with victory,
To bring back His bride who through all still believes.