Hail! Holy FAITH, on life's wide ocean tost,
I see thee sit calm in thy beaten bark;
As NOAH sat, thron'd in his high-borne ark,
Secure and fearless, while a world was lost!
In vain, contending storms thy head enzone,
Thy bosom shrinks not from the bolt that falls:
The dreadful shaft plays harmless, nor appals
Thy steadfast eye, fixt on Jehovah's throne!
E'en tho’ thou saw'st the mighty fabric nod,
Of system'd worlds, thou bears't a sacred charm,
Grav'd on thy heart, to shelter thee from harm:
And thus it speaks:— “Thou art my trust, O GOD!
And thou canst bid the jarring powers be still,
Each ponderous orb, like me, subservient to thy will!