Say, canst thou drink of that dark cup,
Where tears of anguish flow?
And, ere the baptism of fire,
Be first baptized in woe?
Before the voice of God doth speak,
“As man speaks to his friend,”
A great strong wind perchance may break
The rocks, and mountains rend.
Still wilt thou stand before the Lord,
And for His promise wait?
The earth may quake, and shattered hopes
Leave thy life desolate
Within their heart His fire must burn,
Consuming all the dross;
Till, midst the ashes of a world,
Stands nothing but the Cross.
But then--and here is the reason for this book,
Then, in the calm, “a still small voice”
Shall speak, yea, speak to thee;
Wrapped in the mantle of God’s truth,
And power thy lips shall be.
Norman Grub