Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul - LightNovelsOnl.com
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--Robert Browning.
And good may ever conquer ill, Health walk where pain has trod; "As a man thinketh, so is he"; Rise, then, and think with G.o.d.
G.o.d is law, say the wise; O Soul, and let us rejoice, For, if He thunder by law, the thunder is yet his voice.
--Alfred Tennyson.
Whatever road I take, it joins the street Which leadeth all who walk it thee to meet.
O work thy works in G.o.d.
He can rejoice in naught Save only in himself And what himself hath wrought.
To live, to live, is life's great joy; to feel The living G.o.d within--to look abroad, And, in the beauty that all things reveal, Still meet the living G.o.d.
--Robert Leighton.
JESUS
HIS PRECIOUSNESS, AND BEAUTY, AND LOVE
OUR MASTER
Immortal Love, forever full, Forever flowing free, Forever shared, forever whole, A never-ebbing sea!
No fable old, nor mythic lore, Nor dream of bards and seers, No dead fact stranded on the sh.o.r.e Of the oblivious years;--
But warm, sweet, tender, even yet A present help is he; And faith has still its Olivet, And love its Galilee.
The healing of his seamless dress Is by our beds of pain; We touch him in life's throng and press, And we are whole again.
Through him the first fond prayers are said Our lips of childhood frame, The last low whispers of our dead Are burdened with his name.
O Lord and Master of us all!
Whate'er our name or sign, We own thy sway, we hear thy call, We test our lives by thine.
We faintly hear, we dimly see, In differing phrase we pray; But, dim or clear, we own in thee The Light, the Truth, the Way!
To do thy will is more than praise, As words are less than deeds, And simple trust can find thy ways We miss with chart of creeds.
No pride of self thy service hath, No place for me and mine; Our human strength is weakness, death, Our life, apart from thine.
Apart from thee all gain is loss, All labor vainly done; The solemn shadow of thy cross Is better than the sun.
Alone, O Love, ineffable!
Thy saving name is given: To turn aside from thee is h.e.l.l, To walk with thee is heaven.
--John Greenleaf Whittier.
MY HEART IS FIXED
I'll not leave Jesus,--never, never!
Ah, what can more precious be?
Rest and joy and light are ever In his hand to give to me.
All things that can satisfy, Having Jesus, those have I.
Love has bound me fast unto him, I am his and he is mine; Daily I for pardon sue him, Answers he with peace divine.
On that Rock my trust is laid, And I rest beneath its shade.
Without Jesus earth would weary, Seem almost like h.e.l.l to be; But if Jesus I see near me Earth is almost heaven to me.
Am I hungry, he doth give Bread on which my soul can live.
Spent with him, one little hour Giveth a year's worth of gain; Grace and peace put forth their power Joy doth wholly banish pain; One faith-glance that findeth him Maketh earthly crowns look dim.
O how light upon my shoulder Lies my cross, now grown so small!
For the Lord is my upholder, Fits it to me, softens all; Neither shall it always stay, Patience, it will pa.s.s away.
Those who faithfully go forward In his changeless care shall go, Nothing's doubtful or untoward, To the flock who Jesus know.
Jesus always is the same; True and faithful is his name.
CHRIST'S SYMPATHY
If Jesus came to earth again, And walked and talked in field and street, Who would not lay his human pain Low at those heavenly feet?
And leave the loom, and leave the lute, And leave the volume on the shelf, To follow him, unquestioning, mute, If 'twere the Lord himself?
How many a brow with care o'erworn, How many a heart with grief o'er-laden, How many a man with woe forlorn, How many a mourning maiden,
Would leave the baffling earthly prize, Which fails the earthly weak endeavor, To gaze into those holy eyes And drink content forever!
His sheep along the cool, the shade, By the still watercourse he leads; His lambs upon his breast are laid; His hungry ones he feeds.
And I where'er he went would go, Nor question where the paths might lead; Enough to know that here below I walked with G.o.d indeed!
If it be thus, O Lord of mine, In absence is thy love forgot?
And must I, when I walk, repine Because I see thee not?
If this be thus, if this be thus, Since our poor prayers yet reach thee, Lord, Since we are weak, once more to us Reveal the living Word!
