“Afraid? Of what? Afraid to see the Savior’s face To hear his welcome, and to trace The glory gleam from wounds of grace? Afraid—of that? Afraid? Of what? A flash, a crash, a pierced heart; Darkness, light, O Heaven’s art! A wound of his a counterpart! Afraid—of that? Afraid? Of what? To do by death what life could not— Baptize with blood a stony plot, Till souls shall blossom from the spot? Afraid—of that?”
