The day we cease to believe, we cease	
To be, to breath, to keep our lease,		
On bodies dying by degrees, 			
With hearts that too know atrophies.		

With minds unfixed on something pure,	
No beloved truth held firm and sure;		
No cause for slings to be endured,		
No better future's gold allure.			

But just to want, to hope, believe,		
Cannot alone these things achieve.		
There must be more, be not deceived -	
The work will never see reprieve.			

The light of faith, the sweat to try,		
The wings on which we all must fly.		
Ours not from faith & works to shy,		
Ours to believe, & do, or die.