1. 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. 2. 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. 3. 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. 4. 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? 5. 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? 6. 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.
Lyrics: Howard Arnold Walter
Music: Joseph Yates Peek
Tune: PEEK
Howard A. Walter, 1883–1918
The text for “I Would Be True,” was written by a young man in his early twenties in a poem that he titled “My Creed.” After graduating with honors from Princeton University in 1905, Howard Arnold Walter spent a year teaching the English language in Japan. While there he sent a copy of his “creed” to his mother back home in Connecticut. Mrs. Walter sent the poem to Harper’s Magazine, where it appeared in the May, 1907 issue.
Returning to the United States, Howard Walter entered Hartford Seminary and upon graduation served as an assistant minister at the Asylum Hill Congregational Church in Hartford, Connecticut. One day he showed his poem to an itinerant Methodist lay preacher, Joseph Peek. Although Peek had no technical knowledge of music, he immediately whistled a tune suited to Walter’s words.
Several years later, Howard Walter left for India to teach and minister. He died there in 1918, during an influenza epidemic.