WHENE’ER across this sinful flesh of mine br I draw the Holy Sign, br All good thoughts stir within me, and renew br Their slumbering strength divine; br Till there springs up a courage high and true br To suffer and to do. br br And who shall say, but hateful spirits around, br For their brief hour unbound, br Shudder to see, and wail their overthrow? br While on far heathen ground br Some lonely Saint hails the fresh odor, though br Its source he cannot know.