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by [?]

The well-built house with walls of brick, or stone,
May tremble some if struck by the cyclone;
The most established saint may trials feel,
As flint may turn the edge of finest steel.
Satanic hosts may rush in like a flood,
Allied with foes of our own flesh and blood,
The elements of earth and hell combine,
Yet tho’ he trembles, stands in strength divine;
He rests secure on the unyielding rock.
The top may sway, but base feels not the shock;
His heart is fixed, nor earth nor hell can move;
They wrench not loose, but his allegiance prove.
Christ wept with Mary at her brother’s grave;
Laid down His life a rebel world to save;
Tried, like ourselves, and like us too, infirm,
Yet knew no sin in either root or germ;
Let us be like Him while we sojourn here,
Then storms and earthquakes we need never fear.