March 12, 2005

I Would Be True

Howard Arnold Walter, 1883-1918

    I have chosen the way of truth; Your judgments I have laid before me. Psalm 119:30.

    Howard Walter graduated with honors from Princeton University in 1905, and studied at Hartford Theological Seminary; in Edinburgh, and Glasgow, Scotland; and in Göttingen, Germany. At age 23, he spent a year in Japan teaching English at Waseda University. After ordination, he became assistant pastor at the Asylum Hill Congregational Church in Hartford, Connecticut. He later became a missionary with the YMCA in India and Sri Lanka. Doctors had advised against his going, due to his weak heart, but he insisted he “must be true.” He died while working at the Foreman Christian College in Lahore, India.
    Howard Walter wrote the first three verses of 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:

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.

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 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?

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.