Classic Poem

PARABLE XLIII.

The House built upon a Rock.

Not they that merely cite my name,
Lord! Lord! but those heav'n's bliss shall claim
Which by my Father's will have stood,
Who dwells in heav'n for actual good.
In that day many shall apply,
‘Lord! Lord! did we not prophecy,
‘And in thy name the dev'ls eject,
‘And marvels in thy name effect?’
To whom I will again profess,
Depart, ye sons of wickedness:
I know not or your works or you.
Wherefore the men that hear and do
My words, I liken to a man,
Who taking wisdom for his plan,
Upon a rock his house did frame;
Rains fell, and inundations came,
And tempests blew, and could not shock
The building founded on a rock
And these my words who will not hear,
And do them in religious fear,
I liken to a fool that plann'd
And built his house upon the sand;
Rains fell, and inundations came,
And tempests blew upon the same,
'Till down it tumbled, roof and all,
And great and grievous was the fall.
?The Lord himself's the corner-stone,
Which we depend upon alone
By whom all eminence ascends,
Which all perfection starts and ends
The blasts of envy, floods of vice,
In vain attack our edifice,
Which still all violence shall mock,
As founded on the Lord our rock.
Dissenters from the holy law
Build upon stubble and on straw;
And as the ground-work that they place,
Such is the building, free from grace,
Alike unhallow'd and uncouth,
As void of permanence as truth.