Poems (Sharpless)/Household Martyrs
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HOUSEHOLD MARTYRS
There are household martyrs round us,
In domestic places dwelling,
Silent ones whose blighted beauty
Of their martyrdom is telling;
Those whose love and faith grow stronger
As the tempest swells around;
Who so sanctify our homesteads
That they make them holy ground.
In domestic places dwelling,
Silent ones whose blighted beauty
Of their martyrdom is telling;
Those whose love and faith grow stronger
As the tempest swells around;
Who so sanctify our homesteads
That they make them holy ground.
Oh! these silent, humble martyrs
Bear their cross about them still,
Crucifying selfish longings
And the stubborn human will;
Bending unto love or duty,
Or to stern necessity,—
Bearing cheerful spirits with them,
Whatsoe'er their lot may be.
Bear their cross about them still,
Crucifying selfish longings
And the stubborn human will;
Bending unto love or duty,
Or to stern necessity,—
Bearing cheerful spirits with them,
Whatsoe'er their lot may be.
These are they, God's chosen martyrs,
Burning bright before His throne,
Steady beacons thro' the darkness
To guide us who stumble on.
And altho' no crown of laurel
May entwine their pallid brow,
In men's hearts and homes their place is
Radiant, there their stars shall glow.
Burning bright before His throne,
Steady beacons thro' the darkness
To guide us who stumble on.
And altho' no crown of laurel
May entwine their pallid brow,
In men's hearts and homes their place is
Radiant, there their stars shall glow.