In vaulted halls where marble sages brood,
And laurel crowns lie dust upon the shelf,
Where empires rise and fall in fleeting mood,
And mortal tongues proclaim their gods of self—
One question burns through every age and clime,
More sharp than sword, more bright than morning flame:
“What doth the Scripture say?”—the voice sublime
That silences the world’s vainglorious claim.

Not Plato’s fire, nor Virgil’s measured strain,
Nor Shakespeare’s storm of passion’s wild array,
Can match the quiet thunder of that plain
And ancient Word that stands when all decay.
The philosopher in robes of deepest thought
May weave his subtle webs of “if” and “why,”
Yet when the heart is pierced and conscience caught,
One question still demands the final sigh:

“What doth the Scripture say?”—not “What feels true?”
Not “What the crowd believes” or “What seems right.”
Not custom’s chain, nor fashion’s shifting hue,
Nor reason’s torch that flickers through the night.
For thrones have crumbled, altars turned to ash,
And systems vast have withered like the grass;
But still the living Oracles outlast
The boast of man, the dream that cannot pass.

When sorrow’s night descends with leaden wings,
And hope lies cold upon the silent breast,
When death draws near and every comfort stings,
And all the world’s philosophies confess
Their impotence—one voice alone remains,
Clear as the dawn that breaks the prison bars:
“What doth the Scripture say?”—and there the chains
Fall broken, and the soul beholds the stars.

O seeker, turn from every lesser light,
From wisdom’s wells that ever run but dry,
From oracles of earth that fade by night,
And fix thine eyes upon the Book on high.
Therein alone the eternal Answer lies,
The Rock that mocks the tempests of the years;
Therein the soul, though frail and mortal, spies
The path to life, the end of all her fears.

What doth the Scripture say? Let this one theme
Be all thy study, all thy joy, thy shield.
Let kings and councils rage, let scholars dream—
This single question rules the battlefield.
For heaven and earth shall pass, their glories flee,
But not one jot or tittle shall remove
Till all be fulfilled. O soul, to thee
This is the sum of wisdom, this is love:

“What doth the Scripture say?”—and having heard,
Obey with reverent heart and ready hand;
For in that holy page is life’s true Word,
The only thing that truly matters stand.

Thus ends the boast of ages, thus the strife
Of fleeting schools and transient human lore:
In dust they lie, but Scripture lives—and life
Is found alone in what the Scripture saith evermore.