’Twas darkest night upon the lake;
The stout hearts of the men did quake;
They saw a spirit—so they said;
Their hearts were filled with awesome dread:
When, lo: “’Tis I; be of good cheer,”
Composed their minds, dispelled their fear.
We, too, can hear some false alarm,
Which loudly speaks of coming harm;
Our hearts can cry with dark dismay
At sudden changes on life’s way,
Until, perchance, His voice we hear—
“’Tis I! Fear not! Be of good cheer!”
So oft He comes in strange disguise—
It seemeth so to mortal eyes;
To finite wisdom, human sense,
He, blessings, strangely does dispense;
Thus dark enigmas—black as night—
Are changed when robed with heaven’s clear light.
J. D. Smith