---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - R. W. Sloan
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 6
number: 11
published: 1903-09
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'R. W. Sloan, "Faith. A Poem", *Improvement Era* 6, no. 11 (September 1903): 816.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0611unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera0611unse
start_page: 816
end_page: 816
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1903-09)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0611unse
  publication_year: 1903
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1903, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Faith. A Poem

<!-- page:816 -->

816                        IMPROVEMENT ERA.

                      Black clouds, with thunder fierce,
                          Threaten me yet,
                      Help me their dephths to pierce;
                          Let me forget
                     Sin, and that worldly care
                     Prevalent everywhere:
                     Gold-getting, guilty snare,
                          Satan has set.


                     Father, I've wandered long,
                     Searching for thee;
                     Now, let my soul be strong;
                         Dimly I see.
                     Tear thou the veil away,
                     Mine eye let see the day,
                     And, when my hairs are gray,
                          Take me to thee.
                                                   Chauncey Loveland.
      Logan, Utah.




                                   FAITH.



               When wearied souls yearn for Thy light,
                            Then Thou art near;
               When hopes bright star fades into night,
                        Why should we fear!
               For midst the gloom a shining ray
               Of thy great love, still points the way.


               We shall not sink beneath the wave
                            Of dark despair,
               If    we remember Thou wilt save                «

                            Wilt hear our prayer
               And that Thy arms are strong to bear
                                                     —
               The heavy burthens we take there. R. W. Sloan.