Page:Poems Shipton.djvu/24

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Evil would be welcome,
 Wert thou of the earth:
Child, look up to heaven,
 Whence thou hadst thy birth.

"Put thy heel on Satan,
 Draw the Spirit's sword,
Prove thy holy breast-plate,
 Take Me at My word.
Am I not thy Fortress?
 Wherefore fall or fly;
Grasp thy palm, rejoicing
 In My victory.

"'Tis the lowliest conquers;
 'Tis by might of love
That the weakest soldier
 Doth the bravest prove.
Rest thee, weary trembler!
 Was the strife unsent?
Nay! thy King was with thee:
 Not a bow was bent,

"But thy Lord who loves thee
 Guided every dart;
See! they only sent thee
 Nearer to my heart.