Category Archives: Poetry

February 10, 2010

All nature’s works His praise declare, to whom they all belong;
There is a voice in every star, in every breeze a song.
Sweet music fills the world abroad with strains of love and power;
The stormy sea sings praise to God, the thunder and the shower.

To God the tribes of ocean cry, and birds upon the wing;
To God the powers that dwell on high their tuneful tribute bring.
Like them, let us the throne surround, with them loud chorus raise,
While instruments of loftier sound assist our feeble praise.

Great God, to Thee we consecrate our voices and our skill;
We bid the pealing organ wait to speak alone Thy will.
Lord, while the music round us floats may earth born passions die;
O grant its rich and swelling notes may lift our souls on high!

Henry J. Ware

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February 4, 2010

Pour your life out for Christ;
In service to all, giving all.
How else would you serve Christ?
Witholding, scared to trust
Fellow-creatures with your wretched crust
Of love and help? God knows
There are those who grow
Fat on others, then creep away.
But that is His care and say -
Ours is to be His hands and feet!

Should I mete out my love to others
In a miserly way because some “brother”
Took, trampled, and never paid?
Should I punish the human race -
Of which I am one - for traces
Of utter selfishness and heartlessness
That I’ve found in some?
Should I hold back and not fully come
With whole heart to others’ need
Because they might take all, and leave with speed?

Christ poured Himself out - what did He gain?
In His life, not much, for all that pain.
He gave to all that spurned him so,
Hated, rejected, and refused to know
His great outpoured live for them.
For He loved them! He loved them!
Though a million people took, and then
Cast Him aside in ungratefulness - men
Who cared more of Self than Him -
Though these took, I say,
And cast Him, the Giver, away,
It could not crush Him for He is Love.
Love suffers long, and is kind, hoping,
Caring, believing, bearing, and enduring.

But how can we not be “burned” when
Others reject and leave us? Our own heart then
Is too small; our love too dim to bear
That kind of rejected and trampled care.
So be it! It merely proves to us
What we know already - we need Christness.
Christ’s Love must flow through;
We must be His mirror, His channel too;
Pouring, gushing forth His love to all!

Give the whole heart! Invest all
You have in each one He brings into your path.
Be it days, weeks, years, He brought them
To you to minister - do it! Each rough gem
Of a person He has brought to you
Needs something you can supply. Do it! You
Dare not tell Him you are afriad to be burned!
Do you care more about being spurned
Than following His call? Answer
And the night wil grow light or dark around you.
Give all your heart to Christ first -
Then no one can take it away! Worst
Come to worst, they have merely hurt Christ -
Not you. And you have done your duty -
You have been His hands, feet and beauty
In a fallen world. So give -
And live!

Elisha Ann Wahlquist

 

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January 29, 2010

He waters the hills with rain from the skies,
And plentiful grass and herbs He supplies,
Supplying the cattle, and blessing man’s toil
With bread in abundance, with wine and with oil.

The trees which the Lord has planted are fed,
And over the earth their branches are spread;
They keep in their shelter the birds of the air,
The life of each creature the Lord makes His care.

The seasons are fixed by wisdom divine,
The slow changing moon show forth God’s design;
The sun in his circuit his Maker obeys,
And running his journey hastes not nor delays.

The Lord makes the night, when leaving their lair,
The lions creep forth, God’s bounty to share;
The Lord makes the morning, when beasts steal away
And men are beginning the work of the day.

How many and wise Thy works are, O Lord!
The earth with the wealth of wisdom is stored;
The sea bears in safety the ships to and fro,
And creatures unnumbered it shelters below.

The creatures all look to Thee for their food;
Thy hands open wide, they gather the good;
Thy face Thou concealest, in anguish they yearn;
Their breath Thou withholdest, to dust they return.

Anonymous

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January 22, 2010

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He’ll with a giant fight,
He will have a right
To be a pilgrim.

Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim.

John Bunyan

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January 21, 2010

Day by day, and with each passing moment,
Strength I find, to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best—
Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

Every day, the Lord Himself is near me
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares He fain would bear, and cheer me,
He whose Name is Counselor and Power;
The protection of His child and treasure
Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
“As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,”
This the pledge to me He made.

Help me then, in every tribulation
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation
Offered me within Thy holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till I reach the promised land.

Karolina W. Sandell-Berg, 1865

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January 4, 2010

One of my all time favorite hymns.  I’ll bet you’ve never seen all the verses before!  Most hymnals only use three, maybe four of these soul-stirring stanzas.

Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon His throne.
Hark! How the heav’nly anthem drowns all music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing of Him who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.

Crown Him the virgin’s Son, the God incarnate born,
Whose arm those crimson trophies won which now His brow adorn;
Fruit of the mystic rose, as of that rose the stem;
The root whence mercy ever flows, the Babe of Bethlehem.

Crown Him the Son of God, before the worlds began,
And ye who tread where He hath trod, crown Him the Son of Man;
Who every grief hath known that wrings the human breast,
And takes and bears them for His own, that all in Him may rest.

Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed o’er the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
His glories now we sing, who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.

Crown Him the Lord of peace, whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end, and round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet.

Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.

Crown Him the Lord of Heav’n, enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the King to whom is giv’n the wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns, as thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns, for He is King of all.

Crown Him the Lord of lords, who over all doth reign,
Who once on earth, the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain,
Now lives in realms of light, where saints with angels sing
Their songs before Him day and night, their God, Redeemer, King.

Crown Him the Lord of years, the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For Thou has died for me;
Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity.

Matthew Bridges & Godfrey Thring

 

 

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December 31, 2009

What is the Old Year? ‘Tis a book
On which we backward sadly look,
Not willing quite to see it close,
For leaves of violet and rose
Within its heart are thickly strewn,
Marking’s love’s dawn and golden noon;
And turned-down pages, noting days
Dimly recalled through Memory’s haze;
And tear-stained pages, too, that tell
Of starless nights and mournfull knell
Of bells tolling through troubles air
The De Profundis of dispair -
The laugh, the tear, the shine, the shade,
All ‘twixt the covers gently laid;
No uncut leaves; no page unscanned;
Close it and lay it in God’s hand.

Clarence Urmy

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December 29, 2009

Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.

Under the shadow of Thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is Thine arm alone,
And our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting Thou art God,
To endless years the same.

Thy Word commands our flesh to dust,
“Return, ye sons of men:”
All nations rose from earth at first,
And turn to earth again.

A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.

The busy tribes of flesh and blood,
With all their lives and cares,
Are carried downwards by the flood,
And lost in following years.

Time, like an ever rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

Like flowery fields the nations stand
Pleased with the morning light;
The flowers beneath the mower’s hand
Lie withering ere ‘tis night.

Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Be Thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.

Isaac Watts

Also posted in From the Pen of Isaac Watts, Hymns – 2 Comments

December 24, 2009

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our Friend!
He knows our need—to our weakness is no stranger.
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His Gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His Name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy Name!
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!

 Placide Cappeau, 1847

Translanted from the French by John S. Dwight 

 

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Poem of the Week

October 11, 2009

Softly Falls the Gentle Rain

Softly falls the gentle rain
On days that always seem the same;
Lulling as I go to sleep,
Sending me to slumbers deep…
Softly falls the gentle rain.

Softly falls the gentle rain
On endless days of which I’d fain
To be outside about my play;
I wish the clouds would go away…
Softly falls the gentle rain.

Softly falls the gentle rain,
Hushabying as it came;
Bringing life to all the green
And all of nature that I’ve seen…
Softly falls the gentle rain.

Written October, 2002

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