RESPONSE TO “THE ANCHOR HOLDS.”
By Mrs. S. L. Stout
Canst thou sing, on the height of the mountain,
’Mid the lightning’s mad flash in the rain,
Through the strife and the tumult and passion
Of the world in its rush after gain?
Does the anchor hold there, O my brother!
As you hear the wild cries of brave men,
And behold all the pain and the anguish,
As you wander o’er hilltop and plain? The anchor holds! Nor time, nor place,
Nor wrath of men, in life’s mad race,
Nor breakers’ roar, nor blinding rain,
Can loose the hold of anchor chain—
Thank God, the anchor holds! So in the dark shade of the mountain,
At the foot of the storm-riven crest,
I sing, “It is Faith’s blessed anchor;
In the cleft of the Rock let it rest.”
The cedar and cypress and yew-tree,
All speak of God’s love and his care,
And the heart’s open chambers now show me
The place of my idols made bare. Praise God, the anchor’s hold is sure,
The pledge and promise stand secure!
Nor life, nor death, nor scorn’s rude blast
Can move the Rock that holds it fast—
Praise God, the anchor holds!