Scripture Verse

When he arrived and saw the evidence of the grace of God, he was glad and encouraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts. Acts 11:23

Introduction

Words: How­ard A. Wal­ter, 1906 (vers­es 1–3) & S. Ralph Har­low (vers­es 4–6), cir­ca 1918.

Music: Jo­seph Y. Peek, 1911 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Peek (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

portrait
Howard A. Walter (1883–1918)

Walter wrote this hymn while liv­ing in Ja­pan. He sent it to his mo­ther, who for­ward­ed it to Har­per’s Ma­ga­zine, which pub­lished it. Ralph Har­low’s daugh­ter Ruth Har­low Be­rman wrote:

Origin of the Hymn

My fa­ther was a friend of How­ard Wal­ter—and af­ter Mr. Wal­ter’s death, he had a dream in which Mr. Wal­ter told him that he had three more vers­es he would like add­ed to his hymn I Would Be True.

Lyrics

I would be true, for there are those who trust me;
I would be pure, for there are those who care;
I would be strong, for there is much to suf­fer;
I would be brave, for there is much to dare;
I would be brave, for there is much to dare.

I would be friend of all—the foe, the friend­less;
I would be giv­ing, and for­get the gift;
I would be hum­ble, for I know my weak­ness;
I would look up, and laugh, and love and lift.
I would look up, and laugh, and love and lift.

I would be faith­ful through each pass­ing mo­ment;
I would be con­stant­ly in touch with God;
I would be strong to fol­low where He leads me;
I would have faith to keep the path Christ trod;
I would have faith to keep the path Christ trod.

Who is so low that I am not his bro­ther?
Who is so high that I’ve no path to him?
Who is so poor, that I may not feel his hun­ger?
Who is so rich I may not pi­ty him?
Who is so rich I may not pi­ty him?

Who is so hurt I may not know his heart­ache?
Who sings for joy my heart may ne­ver share?
Who in God’s hea­ven has passed be­yond my vi­sion?
Who to Hell’s depths where I may ne­ver fare?
Who to Hell’s depths where I may ne­ver fare?

May none, then, call on me for un­der­stand­ing,
May none, then, turn to me for help in pain,
And drain alone his bi­tter cup of sor­row,
Or find he knocks up­on my heart in vain.
Or find he knocks up­on my heart in vain.