Faith, implanted from above,

Faith, implanted from above,
Will prove a fertile root,
Whence will spring a tree of love,
Producing precious fruit.
Though bleak winds the boughs deface,
The rooted stock shall still remain;
Leaves may languish, fruit decrease,
But more shall grow again.

Happy souls! who cleave to Christ
By pure and living faith,
Finding him their King and Priest,
Their God and guide till death.
God's own foe may plague his sons;
Sin may distress, but not subdue;
Christ, who conquered for us once,
Will in us conquer too.