A Sonnet of Faith

I am not daunted by the show of things,
Nor do I pass them with averted eyes,
Feigning I do not see, nor on the wings
Of fair deluding fancy lightly rise
And from afar the radiant world behold
In happy silence spinning smoothly by.
Nay, but by night and day, in heat and cold,
Among the multitudes who toil and die
I come and go observant, near at hand,
10Regarding Life with eyes that do not shrink:
I see the victor on his carrion stand,
And see in impious blood the vanquished sink,
Yea, even behold where waits the delvèd sod,
Yet sing unfaltering of the soul and God.