 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
[One writ a plea for Faith, and put]
“Of making many books there is no
end.”—Eccles. xii. 12.
One writ a plea for Faith, and put
His thoughts into a printed book;
I read it that I might confute
My doubts, and all my faith it shook.
His thoughts into a printed book;
I read it that I might confute
My doubts, and all my faith it shook.
Another and another still
I tried, and all the more I read
The less I could believe, until
A mist of darkness wrapt my head.
I tried, and all the more I read
The less I could believe, until
A mist of darkness wrapt my head.
They dried up all my Jacob's wells;
They broke the faithful shepherd's rod;
They blurred the gracious miracles
Which are the signature of God.
They broke the faithful shepherd's rod;
They blurred the gracious miracles
Which are the signature of God.
And hour by hour, and day by day
My heart grew colder than before,
And for one doubt they took away
They left suggestion of a score.
My heart grew colder than before,
And for one doubt they took away
They left suggestion of a score.
In trouble, then, and fear I sought
The Man who taught in Galilee,
And peace unto my soul was brought,
And all my faith came back to me.
The Man who taught in Galilee,
And peace unto my soul was brought,
And all my faith came back to me.
Oh times of weak and wavering faith
That labour pleas in His defence,
Ye only dim Him with your breath:
He is His own best evidence.
That labour pleas in His defence,
Ye only dim Him with your breath:
He is His own best evidence.
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |