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W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.

‘O Thou of Little Faith’

Arthur Hugh Clough (1819–1861)

IT may be true

That while we walk the troublous tossing sea,

That when we see the o’ertopping waves advance,

And when we feel our feet beneath us sink,

There are who walk beside us; and the cry

That rises so spontaneous to the lips,

The ‘Help us, or we perish,’ is not nought,

An evanescent spectrum of disease.

It may be that indeed and not in fancy,

A hand that is not ours upstays our steps,

A voice that is not ours commands the waves;

Commands the waves, and whispers in our ear,

‘O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?’

At any rate

That there are beings above us, I believe,

And when we lift up holy hands of prayer,

I will not say they will not give us aid.