Classic Poem

Begone, unbelief! my Savior is near,
And for my relief will surely appear;
By pray'r let me wrestle, and he will perform;
With Christ in the vessel, I smile at the storm.

Though dark be my way, since he is my guide,
'Tis mine to obey, 'tis his to provide;
Tho' cisterns be broken, and creatures all fail,
The word he has spoken shall surely prevail.

Why should I complain of want or distress,
Temptation or pain? he told me no less;
The heirs of salvation, I know from his word,
Through much tribulation must follow their Lord.

How bitter that cup no heart can conceive,
Which he drank quite up, that sinners might live!
His way was much rougher, and darker than mine;
Did Jesus thus suffer? and shall I repine?

Since all that I meet shall work for my good,
The bitter is sweet, the med'cine is food;
Though painful at present, 'twill cease before long,
And then,—Oh! how pleasant the conqueror's song!