Where else could Augustus Toplady shelter from spiritual storm,
But only in the Rock of Ages?
And what else could the burden of sin imply,
But woe and death its wages?
Nothing in his hands had he,
And not all of their labors were enough;
The cross was all he could see
When the waters were stirred rough;
And he saw the Calvary tree
When tornados and tempests proved tough!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem