Designed to shine

and move by grace

on wings of faith

flexed in the race.

A treasure

in an earthen pot,

Whose glory shines

in battles fought.

Our strength derived

from heaven’s throne,

clearly seen

as not our own.

The excellency

of this light

shines all the brighter

in the night,

where fears are thick

and hopes have waned

and every ounce of strength

has drained.

‘Tis then we see

God’s nail scarred hand

supply the strength

by which we stand.