The Right Must Win

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

O, IT is hard to work for God,

To rise and take his part

Upon this battle-field of earth,

And not sometimes lose heart!

He hides himself so wondrously,

As though there were no God;

He is least seen when all the powers

Of ill are most abroad.

Or he deserts us at the hour

The fight is all but lost;

And seems to leave us to ourselves

Just when we need him most.

Ill masters good, good seems to change

To ill with greater ease;

And, worst of all, the good with good

Is at cross-purposes.

Ah! God is other than we think;

His ways are far above,

Far beyond reason’s height, and reached

Only by childlike love.

Workman of God! O, lose not heart,

But learn what God is like;

And in the darkest battle-field

Thou shalt know where to strike.

Thrice blest is he to whom is given

The instinct that can tell

That God is on the field when he

Is most invisible.

Blest, is he who can divine

Where the real right doth lie,

And dares to take the side that seems

Wrong to man’s blindfold eye.

For right is right, since God is God;

And right the day must win;

To doubt would be disloyalty,

To falter would be sin!