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Christian Poetry
Poetry is one of God's special gifts to Christians, and I for one greatly enjoy reading it. Whether I'm reading one of Charles Wesley's faith-affirming hymns, a heart-warming poem of Gerhard Tersteegen, or the reflections of a modern poet, my heart is often touched by these godly musings. I'm not much of a writer, let alone a poet, and therefore greatly appreciate the efforts rendered in this regard. Are you a poet? Consider submitting one of your poems by sending it to me. Directory
Subjects: Faith / Trust In His Presence Godly Women Songs of Our Pilgrimage Dying to Self Revival Poets: Francis Ridley Havergal: Francis was a gifted prolific Christian writer who wrote many beautiful poems that have been put to music. Though she accomplished much, including speaking many languages, performing as a concert pianist and writing hundreds of beautiful poems, Francis' great passion in life was the Lord Jesus. and her ardent desire was to honor God in everything she did. She died in her early 40s, but even though she was very sick, she still believed, using her words, that God's will was delicious. Her poem, Take My Life was written at the end of a week during which she had led ten individuals to the Lord Jesus who were living in the same boarding house she was. Later C. T. Studd , the great missionarywho accomplished feats in China, India and Central Africa, used the lines of that hymn to surrender his life to Jesus. Lance Landall: Lance writes in Wellington, NZ and has a web site devoted to his poetry (http://www.poetrywithamission.co.nz). I know Lance from meeting his daughters at an ASANZ convention in Wellington. Henry Suso: (1300-1366): He was a German mystic and poet who was born at Uberlingen on the Lake of Constance and died in Ulm. Suso and Johannes Tauler were both students of Meister Eckhart. His devotional works were extrememly popular in the later Middle Ages. Gerhard Tersteegen: Tersteegen lived in the latter part of the 1600s and was a great blessing in his time and since then. Sometimes referred to as a recluse in demand due to his retiring lifestyle, he was well known none the less, and people came to him from all of Europe to hear him expound on the ways of God. He was also a prolific writer of poems and many of them are known in our day. We even find a few of them in our modern-day hymnals. He was a German Pietists, a group which sought to reform the Lutheran Church in their day, and who believed that genuine Christianity was a matter of the heart, and evidenced in one's actions. Other well known Pietists were Johann Arndt, Philip Spener, and August Franck, all of which wrote books worthy of our attention. You can find a few sermons of Tersteegen on this site as well. C.P.C.: I don't know anything about this individual except that his poetry appears in "Hymns of Tersteegen, Suso and others" which is a compilation of Pietists hymns. Faith and Trust
Like A River Glorious Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest Hidden in the hollow of His blessed hand, Every joy or trial falleth from above, “Then trust Him for today As thine unfailing Friend, And let Him lead thee all the way Who loveth to the end. And let the morrow rest In His beloved hand, His good is better than our best, As we shall understand; If, trusting Him who faileth never, We rest on Him today, for ever. —Francis Havergal, Starlight Through the Shadows Experiencing His Presence
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Yes, I saw Jesus today, walking close beside someone, Their clothes looked tatty, their hair dishevelled — the kind some shun. He was smiling and chatting, offering a helping hand, Taking an interest in them — while for others — His eyes scanned. I saw my Saviour today, He was comforting someone, Someone with tears in their eyes, that had far from just begun. He had His arm around them, and had tears in His eyes too, And I’m sure I heard Him say, “I understand, I’ve been hurt too.” Yes, I saw Jesus today, carrying a bag or two, They were laden down with food, other necessities too. He approached a run-down house, clutching His wallet as well, And I saw Him empty it, before He rang the door bell. I saw my Saviour today, wounded sparrow in His hand, It was holding up a wing, damaged as it tried to land. There was sadness on His face, as He held it delicately, And I saw Him take it home, tending it most lovingly. Yes, I saw Jesus today, in a smile that came my way, In words of encouragement, some kindly soul sought to say. In a gentle touch, a warm embrace, in a little gift, That acted like healing balm, saw my sagging spirits lift. I saw my Saviour today, dicing with death and a bus, Attempting to save someone — such, reminding me of us. I thought of how we wander from the straight and narrow way, And how Christ tries to save us, from forces that seek to slay. Yes, I saw Jesus today, helping, caring, saving too, Working via humanity — for such, He’s chosen to do. That way, we become like Him — a reflection — Christ on view, Thus, was it Jesus I saw, lovingly working through you?—Lance Landall My God
“Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You.”
As the bridegroom to his chosen, As the king unto his realm, As the keep unto the castle, As the pilot to the helm, So, Lord, art Thou to me.
As the fountain in the garden, As the candle in the dark, As the treasure in the coffer, As the manna in the ark, So, Lord, art Thou to me.
As the music at the banquet, As the stamp unto the seal, As the medicine to the fainting, As the wine-cup at the meal, So, Lord, art Thou to me.
As the ruby in the setting, As the honey in the comb, As the light within the lantern, As the father in the home, So, Lord, art Thou to me.
As the sunshine to the heavens, As the image to the glass, As the fruit unto the fig-tree, As the dew unto the grass, So, Lord, art Thou to me. John Tauler Godly Women A Father's Loving Plea
My precious darling daughter, there is much I need to say,
Regarding many dangers, that could see you led astray. But there's one important thing, that now, I wish to mention, And if happiness you want, please give this full attention. This world's not the way it was, not that it has been fault-free, But now, because it has worsened, more wrong about you'll see. Some things can look attractive, that in actual fact just hide, That which given half a chance, could see you taken for a ride. Such it is with certain men, who'll try to ply one's daughter, With nice gifts and hollow words, as they pretend to court her. It takes a man to know one, thus the need to say to you, Many a man's intentions, aren't honorable or true. So many steps are taken, by some men who prise consent, That in time soon proves to you, that they were not Heaven-sent. Though they will try and fool you, that you don't have need for fear, An error here could soon see, these words ringing in your ear. The man who'll truly love you, will never want to hurt you, There'll be no selfish focus, in the things he'll say and do. However, it can happen, that like this a man will seem, When in fact he's fooling you, as that is how some men scheme. If a man's not genuine, caution here should find that out, For in such matters of the heart, you can't afford a doubt. Many inexperienced, and caught up in emotions, Have suffered miserably, due to, unsound young devotions. Men who focus on the body, will not be right for you, So watch your presentation, lest you get a man you'll rue. They'll treat you like an object, could you wonder that they do, Should sexual attraction, be written all over you. This world is obsessed with sex, and should we be surprised, When selfish gratification, appears more to be prized. No wonder many men today, with what they're being fed, When it comes down to women, now think more in terms of bed. Men should love you for yourself, and should seek just you to please, But this, of course, is something, that only the right man sees. A permanent relationship, should be built on solid ground, And as this is so pivotal, don't marry one who'll play around. For many it's like shopping, they will try and then discard, Unconcerned their philandering, can hit some rejected, hard. Sadly, many women too, also play this foolish game, Compounding such behaviour, and thus sharing shame and blame. Some men may be good at heart, but sexually addicted, Though not meaning harm to you, it can surely be predicted. Bear in mind that any child, that might grow up like that dad, Could also bring you sadness, and just to your problems add. All these things are said in love, and are a father's duty, That you might avoid a man, who'll rob your life of beauty. Save yourself for just one man, whose love you'll always treasure, Because of its unselfishness, that will not weigh or measure.—Lance Landall Revival
The River of God
From the Rock that God has riven Flows the sacred river, Through the wastes of barren ages, Ever and for ever.
Still on this side and on that side, Grow the healing trees- Bearing fruit for all the hunger Leaves for all Disease.
From the everlasting fountains Still it flows along, Making glad the holy city Of eternal song.
From the throne of Christ in glory, Rock that God has riven, Onward still the crystal river Bears the life of Heaven.
Sheep lie yet in quiet pastures By the waters still, Lilies grow in God’s green meadows, Cedars on His hill.
Still to drink the living waters Come the souls athirst, Eyes behold the Face of Jesus Even as at first.
Clad in white there walk beside Him Still the blessed throng- Through the ages sound unsilenced Psaltery and song.
Onwards weary generations Pass through deserts dread. Void and silent skies above them, Under them the dead.
Whilst unseen the Lord’s fair garden Round about them glows, And the barren wilderness Blossom as the rose.
Whilst beside them unimagined Glide the waters fair- Whilst around, the psalms ascending Tell that Christ is there. C.P.C., From Hymns of Tersteegen, Suso and Others Top
Deut. xxxi. 8 On, O beloved children, The evening is at hand, And desolate and fearful The solitary land. Take heart! the rest eternal Awaits our weary feet; From strength to strength press onwards, The end, how passing sweet! Lo, we can tread rejoicing The narrow pilgrim road; We know the voice that calls us, We know our faithful God. Come, children, on to glory! With every face set fast Towards the golden towers Where we shall rest at last. It was with voice of singing We left the land of night, To pass in glorious music Far onward out of sight. O children, was it sorrow? Though thousand worlds be lost, Our eyes have looked on Jesus, And thus we count the cost. The praising and the blaming, The storehouse and the mart, The mourning and the feasting, The glory and the art, The wisdom and the cunning, Left far amid the gloom; We may not look behind us, For we are going home. Across the will of nature Leads on the path of God; Not where the flesh delighteth The feet of Jesus trod. O bliss to leave behind us The fetters of the slave, To leave ourselves behind us, The grave-clothes and the grave! To speed, unburdened pilgrims, Glad, empty-handed, free; To cross the trackless deserts, And walk upon the sea; As strangers among strangers, No home beneath the sun; How soon the wanderings ended, The endless rest begun! We pass the children playing, For evening shades fall fast; We pass the wayside flowers- God’s Paradise at last! If now the path be narrow And steep and rough and lone, If crags and tangles cross it, Praise God! we will go on. We follow in His footsteps; What if our feet be torn? Where He has marked the pathway All hail the briar and thorn! Scarce seen, scarce heard, unreckoned, Despised, defamed, unknown, Or heard but by our singing, On, children! ever on!—Gerhard Tersteegen Something's Amiss Lance Landall When, love is often talked about but not so seldom seen, When purses are healthy but the offering bags are lean, When quantity’s viewed as more important than quality, Or when truth is sacrificed for the sake of unity. Something’s amiss… When, the noise inside the church sounds the same as that outside, When one’s cries have gone unheard and the backdoor’s open wide, When preaching delivers what’s liked rather than what’s needed, Or when biblical instruction’s ignored rather than heeded. Something’s amiss… When, one’s music and the world’s are difficult to tell apart, When one’s walk is more in the head and lesser in the heart, When what’s on TV is studied more than what’s in God’s Word, Or when one’s busily repeating what they’ve overheard. Something’s amiss… Read all of Something's Amiss Lance Landall Top Dying To Self
The Knight of God
“For I will show him how many things he must suffer for My name’s sake.” Acts ix. 16
As the song of him who singeth, Playing on a harp of gold, So to me was Christ’s evangel In the days of old.
Thus across the lake of Constance Went I forth to preach His Word, And beside me sat the squire Of a noble Lord.
None in all the ship so knightly, None so bravely dight as he- “Tell me,” I besought, “thine errand Yonder o’er the sea.”
“I go forth,” he said, “to gather Many a knight and noble bold; They shall tilt at joust and tourney, Whilst fair eyes behold.
“And the bravest and the noblest He shall win a glorious prize, Smiles to boot, and courtly favour In the ladies’ eyes.”
“Tell me what shall be the guerdon?” “Lo, the fairest in the land Sets a gold ring on his finger With her lily hand.”
“Tell me how the knight may win it?” “Scars and bruises must he boast, For the knight shall be the winner Who endures the most.”
“Tell me, if when first assaulted, He in knightly guise shall stand, Shall he win the golden guerdon From his lady’s hand?”
“Nay, right on, till all is over, Must a worthy knight hold on; Bear the brunt, and stand a conqueror When the fight is done.”
“And if he be wounded sorely, Will he weep and will he mourn?” “Nay, in place of winning honour, He would win but scorn.”
Then my spirit sank within me, And within my heart I spake- “O my Lord, thus fight the knightly For their honour’s sake.
“Small the prize, and stern the battle, Worthless gain, and weary fight- Lord, a ring of stones most precious Hast thou for Thy knight!
“Oh, to be the knight of Jesus! Scorning pain, and shame, and loss; There the crown, the joy, the glory, Here, O Lord, Thy Cross.”
Then I wept, with bitter longing Thus the knight of God to be; And the Lord, who saw me weeping, Gave the cross to me.
Bitter pain, and shame, and sorrow Came upon me as a flood- I forgot it was the tourney Of the knights of God.
And again I wept, beseeching, “Take the Cross, O Lord, from me!” Till a light broke like the morning Over the wild sea.
Then there spake the Voice beloved, Still and sweet my heart within- “is it thus, O knight of Jesus, Thou the prize wilt win?”
“O my Lord, the fight is weary- Weary, and my heart is sore!” “And,” he answered, “fair the guerdon, And for evermore.”
“I have shamed Thee, craven-hearted, I have been Thy recreant knight- Own me yet, O Lord, albeit Weeping whilst I fight.”
“Nay,” He said; “yet wilt thou shame Me? Wilt thou shame thy knightly guise? I would have My angels wonder At thy gladsome eyes.
“Need’st thou pity, knight of Jesus?- Pity for thy glorious hest? On! let God and men and angels See that thou art blest! Henry Suso from Hymns of Tersteegen, Suso and Others
The Mat
It was on a winter’s morning In the days of old, In his cell sat Father Henry, Sorrowful and cold.
“O my Lord, I am aweary,” In his heart he spake, “For my brethren scorn and hate me For Thy blessed sake.
“If I had but one to love me That were joyful cheer- One small word to make me sunshine Through the darksome year!
“But they mock me and despise me Till my heart is stung- Then my words are wild and bitter, Tameless is my tongue.”
Then the Lord said, “I am with thee; Trust thyself to Me; Open thou thy little casement, Mark what thou shalt see.”
Then a piteous look and wistful Father Henry cast Out into the dim old cloister And the wintry blast.
Was it that a friend was coming By some Angel led? No! a great hound wild and savage Round the cloister sped.
Some old mat that lay forgotten Seized he on his way- Tore it, tossed it, dragged it wildly Round the cloister gray.
“Lo, the hound is like thy brethren,” Spake the Voice he knew; “If thou are the mat, beloved, What hast thou to do?”
Meekly then went Father Henry, And the mat he bare To his little cell to store it As a jewel rare.
Many a winter and a summer Through those cloisters dim, Did he thenceforth walk rejoicing, And the Lord with him.
And when bitter words would sting him, Turned he to his cell, Took his mat, and looked upon it, Saying, “All is well.
“He who is the least and lowest Needs but low to lie; Lord, I thank Thee and I praise Thee That the mat am I.”
“On the cold and footworn pavement Lies it still and flat, Raves not if men trample on it, For it is a mat.”
Then he wept, for in the stillness His Beloved spake, “Thus was Ithe least and lowest, Gladly, for thy sake.
“Lo, My face to shame and spitting Did I turn for thee; If thou art the least and lowest, Then remember Me.” , from Hymns of Tersteegen, Suso and Others
The Night Watch
“My soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning—yes, more than those who watch for the morning.” Ps. cxxx. 6
Oh when shall the fair day break, and the hour of gladness come, When I to my heart’s Beloved, to Thee, O my Lord, go home? O Lord, the ages are long, and weary my heart for Thee, For Thee, O my one Beloved, whose Voice shall call for me. I would see Thee face to face, Thou Light of my weary eyes, I wait and I watch till morning shall open the gate of the skies; The morn when I rise aloft, to my one, my only bliss, To know the smile of Thy welcome, the mystery of Thy kiss. For here hath my foot no rest, and mine eye sees all things fair As a dream of a land enchanted, for my heart’s love is not there; And amidst the thronging of men I am lonelier than alone, For my eye seeketh One I find not, my heart craveth only One. , from Hymns of Tersteegen, Suso and Others The Meeting
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?” Rom. viii. 35 |