THOU SHALT NOT BE AFRAID.
By C. M. Snow
CEASE doubting, O soul, tho the sea be a-roar
With the billows of strife, and tho legions of war
Are treading to dust the green of the lea
And red'ning the rivers that run to the sea.
There's a bow in the sky, and its diamond-wrought rim
Is the pledge of our hope, and that hope is in Him
Who holdeth the world in the cup of His hand
And bindeth the sea with a shackle of sand. What need that I cherish the tremor of dread
While the bow of His word bends bright overhead?
Tho the sea may be red with the blood of the slain,
And the dead be piled high on the slippery plain;
Tho the arrows of death fly on every hand,
And the specter of pestilence stalk through the land;
I will trust in Him still, for my anchor will hold,
And my soul be at peace in His heavenly fold. I'll fear not the gloom of that terrible day
When the hopes of the heedless are smitten away;
When the face of the sinner is blackened with dread,
And the angels of wrath on their mission have sped;
For swift o'er the shuddering, tremulous sod
Come the chariot wheels of my Saviour and God,
And deep in the heart that is trusting in Him
Glows the lamp of His Word which no terror can dim.