I WOULD BE TRUE

A young man named Howard Walker graduated from Princeton University in 1905. Because of his sunny smile he was wanted where there was fun. Because of his keen mind he was sought when wise counsel was needed. Because of his consecration to God he was a blessing to all. Through college and seminary he went and then chose the foreign missions field as his life service.

One Christmas, while stationed in Japan, he wrote his mother the first three verses of this poem as his seasonal greeting to her. And she recognizing the beauty of the message sent it to Harper’s Magazine. In 1919 the influenza was raging in India. He was one of its victims. The last three verses of the poem were written by Ralph Harlow. It is said that he dreamed a dream in which Howard Walker told him he wished him to include the additional wording. The poem was set to music by Joseph Peak.

(from a church bulletin)

                                           I WOULD BE TRUE

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.