A member of this fellowship, I find
The hope that stirs in me belongs to us.
I know full well the urging of my lust
And yet retain an easy state of mind.
Among these holy men we’re all one kind.
We feel both movements of the flesh and gusts
Of Holy Spirit’s mixing all the dust
And mud of earth in living water signed.
How can I fear that God will not be kind
To all my foolishness? The stubborn rust
Of sin he scrapes with fellowship, and I must
Only give my life to ties that bind
Me in a company of living men
Whom I regard as kin. They call me Ken.
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