"Are ye able," said the Master

" Are ye able," said the Master, " To be crucified with me?" " Yea," the sturdy dreamers answered, " To the death we follow Thee."

Lord, we are able. Our spirits are Thine. Remold them, make us, Like Thee, divine. Thy guiding radiance Above us shall be A beacon to God, To love, and loyalty.

Are ye able to remember, When a thief lifts up his eyes, That his pardoned soul is worthy Of a place in paradise?

Are ye able when the shadows Close around you with the sod, To believe that spirit triumphs, To commend your soul to God?

" Are ye able?" Still the Master Whispers down eternity, And heroic spirits answer Now, as then, in Galilee.