The Weak to Shame the Strong

Where is the thinker of this age?
The great philosopher?
Where is your wisdom now, O sage?
What hope can it assure?

Now speak, O image, iron wrought,
O idol, carved from wood!
You tarnish and dissolve to rot
As manmade objects would.

And would all mysteries be solved
If logic made all known?
The one word--why--would be unsolved:
Life's meaning still unknown.

Your works of good weigh not on scales,
This is no balance beam.
Your heart, not fully pure, still fails
The moral law supreme.

The strength of heroes of renown
Has rotted into bones.
Those clever minds that once bore crowns
Are cold and dead as stones.

But Him who lives forevermore
Will persevere for long:
His power has provided for
The weak to shame the strong.

Where once we were but fools and things despised,
His death brought life eternal as the prize.