No. 2378, The Tempest (Poetry)

A poem on Psalm 46.

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God is our Refuge, strong and near, —
a Present help when storms appear.
Though mountains quake and oceans roar,
we will not fear what lies in store.

The River flows—its streams embrace
God’s Holy City—His Sacred Place.
Within her walls, His Strength resides;
she will not fall—the Lord Abides.

At dawn He speaks, the Nations reel;
the Earth dissolves beneath His Will.
The Lord of Hosts is by our side, —
our Fortress where we may always hide.

Come, see His works—His Mighty Hand, —
the wars He ends across the lands.
He breaks the bow, He snaps the spear,
and bids the world to still its Fear:

“Be still and know that I am God,
exalted High where naught have trod.
Among the nations, I shall Reign;
My Name in Glory shall remain.”

The Lord of Hosts is strong to Save, —
our Rock and Shelter from the Grave.
With Him, no trial can overtake, —
our Refuge firm whom none can shake.