"Last night I paused beside a blacksmith's door
And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime.
Then looking upon the floor
Old hammers worn with beating years of time.
How many anvils have you had, said I 
To wear and batter all these hammers so?

Just one...said he, and said with twinkling eye,
The anvils wear the hammers out, you know.
And so, I thought, the anvil of God's Word, 
For ages skeptics blows have beat upon, 
Yet, though the noise of falling blows was heard,
The anvil is unharmed...the hammers, gone."