Poems (Hoffman)/Life's Great Question
LIFE'S GREAT QUESTION1886
Like a rushing Alpine torrentFed by springs of melting snow,Pouring downward from the distanceTo the pasture-lands below,Pours the tide of life's great questions.Seething, foaming, as they go,Ever changing, as they thunderDownward from the long ago.Science, with her vaunted wisdom,Utters forth her mighty voice;And the clang of war and discord,Boasts of theories their choice;
While persuasion, calm and gentle,Mingles with the tumult's roar;As, adown through time-worn channels,Life's great themes and problems pour;Till the traveler, faint and dizzy,Gazing on the shapeless mass,Looks in vain for truth's bright crystalIn the waters as they pass.Looks in vain in creeds and doctrinesFor that one unsullied stone,Looks in vain in church and templeFor the truth enshrined alone.
Looks in vain amid the tumultFor one attribute of God,That has stood unshaken—neverBy false doctrine downward trod.Looks in vain to find the solvingOf the soul's immortal end; Looks to find but wild confusionWhere the thoughts of time contend.What of creeds? There is one onlyThat shall never mouldering lie,Like the fadeless sun, that lonelyMonarch of the starless sky,
Shining downward through the ages,Far above the torrent's moan,Studied by the patriarch Moses,From the tablets made of stone;And rehearsed in song and storyIn the life of Christ, the Lord,With the rays of Heaven-born gloryIn each loving deed and word.What if temples, grand cathedrals,Lift to Heaven their domes and spiresAnd the swell of thrilling anthemsRolls from grand imposing choirs?
Yet outside their sacred precincts,Where no listening crowds attend,Richer, grander, holier praisesTo Jehovah's throne ascend.Not alone to human templesDo His worshipers repair,'Tis His children's sanctuaryWheresoe'er they bow in prayer;In the field, the plain, the forest,In the city's crowding throng,Hearts have offered prayers unutteredSouls have breathed immortal song.
Look above thee; golden turrets,Perish in the distant blue;Look below thee; flowery carpetsSpread the floor of nature through;And those roofs of palest azure,And those floors, before, behind,Spreading out in matchless grandeur,Hold and cover all mankind.This thy temple-home, erectedBy an Architect divine;'Tis thy Father's sanctuaryAnd thy Father's house is thine.
What is God? A cruel tyrantRuling with a rod of iron,Armed with stern, unyielding justice,Or in kindlier mood benign,Staying whom he will, or blessingBy an unexplained decree;Punishing one man's transgressingWhile another wanders free?God, who made the skies above us,God, who made the earth so fair,God, whose loving kindness shinethIn the earth, the sea, the air.
What O mighty current rollingTo eternity's great seaAre thy wild conflicting murmursOf the all-wise Deity?Let false science, in her blindness,Lead her fools to black despair; Lo, thy Father's loving kindnessFalleth 'round thee, everywhere.Read in earth's frail starry blossomsOr those higher stars above,God is strength and power and wisdom,God is justice, mercy, love.
Soul of mine, what is thy portion?Oh ye roaring floods be still.God, the loving, all-wise Father,Shall His promises fulfill.Thine to live while temples crumble,Thine to live while creeds decay,Thine to live while worlds dissolvingMelt in flames or dust away.Thine to sing o'er death victorious,While death's vanquished armies rage;Thine to claim in joy and gladnessAn immortal heritage.