A Light that Shames the Noonday Sun

Where? O where? Where is the truth? 
Where is the truth I seek? 
Who? Who is right? 
Each minister professes to love the light of the Prince of Peace.
Yet they make war, make war upon each other! 
Each swears, swears affection for the cause of Christ, 
yet they make war, loving only the man whose thought agrees with theirs! 
Surely, surely truth rests within one of these camps. 
Surely the Savior's path is is cast in the hearts of some . . . 
yet young as I, unlearned, untried, of men who can I trust? 
What tool? What tool have I? 
What tool have I to sift men's hearts? 
I am but a boy.

If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God,  
that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not,
that giveth to all, that giveth to all! 
But let him ask in faith, nothing doubting. 
For he that doubts is like a wave of the sea
driven with the wind and tossed.
If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God; 
and it shall be given him!

Oh God, deliver me!

A light that shames the noonday sun 
delivers and enfolds the grove 
with fires from which no new fires run 
descending here where once I strove; 
it banishes the storm, and fills with joy 
my trembling form that I had felt near slip away 
beneath that dark before this day. 
"Joseph! Joseph! This is my beloved son. 
Hear Him!"

The standard of truth has been erected! 
No unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; 
persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, 
armies may assemble, calumny may defame, 
but the truth of God will go forth 
boldly, nobly and independent, 
till it has penetrated every continent, 
visited every clime, swept every country 
and sounded in every ear, 
till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, 
and the Great Jehovah shall say,
"The Work is Done."