The Refiner's Gold
He stood before my heart's closed door,
And asked to enter in;
But I had barred the passage o'er
By unbelief and sin.
He came with nail-prints in his hands,
To set my spirit free;
With wounded feet he trod a path
To come and sup with me.
He found me poor and brought me gold,
The fire of love had tried,
And garments whitened by his blood,
My wretchedness to hide.
The glare of life had dimmed my eyes,
Its glamour was too bright.
He came with ointment in his hands
To heal my darkened sight.
He knew my heart was tempest-tossed,
By care and pain oppressed;
He whispered to my burdened heart,
Come unto me and rest.
He found me weary, faint and worn,
On barren mountains cold;
With love's constraint he drew me on,
To shelter in his fold.
Oh! foolish heart, how slow wert thou
To welcome thy dear guest,
To change thy weariness and care
For comfort, peace and rest.
Close to his side, oh! may I stay,
Just to behold his face,
Till I shall wear within my soul
The image of his grace.
The grace that changes hearts of stone
To tenderness and love,
And bids us run with willing feet
Unto his courts above.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Related quotes
Hymn
I HEARD a voice at midnight, and it cried,
"O weary heart, O soul for which I died,
Why wilt thou spurn My wounded hands and side?
"Is there a heart more tender, more divine,
Than that sad heart which gave itself for thine?
5
Could there be love more warm, more full than Mine?
"What other touch can still thy trembling breath?
What other hand can hold thee after death?
What bread so sweet to him that hungereth?
"Warm is thy chamber, soft and warm thy bed;
10
Bleak, howling winds are round the path I tread;—
The Son of man can nowhere lay His head.
"Wilt thou not open to Me? To and fro
I wander, weary, thro' the driving snow;
But colder still that thou wouldst spurn Me so.
15
"I have a crown more bright than all that be,
I have a kingdom wider than the sea;
But both have I abandoned, seeking thee.
"Poor, weary heart, so worn and sad within!
Oh, open to thy Friend, thy Stay from sin,
20
That I, with all My love, may enter in."
I heard a voice at midnight, and I cried,
"O Lord, I need Thy wounded hands and side—
I need Thy love,—Lord, enter and abide."
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Love Fulfilled
Hast thou longed through weary days
For the sight of one loved face?
Mast thou cried aloud for rest,
Mid the pain of sundering hours;
Cried aloud for sleep and death,
Since the sweet unhoped for best
Was a shadow and a breath?
O, long now, for no fear lowers
O’er these faint feet-kissing flowers.
O, rest now; and yet in sleep
All thy longing shalt thou keep.
Thou shalt rest and have no fear
Of a dull awaking near,
Of a life for ever blind,
Uncontent and waste and wide.
Thou shalt wake and think it sweet
That thy love is near and kind.
Sweeter still for lips to meet;
Sweetest that thine heart doth hide
Longing all unsatisfied
With all longing’s answering
Howsoever close ye cling.
Thou rememberest how of old
E’en thy very pain grew cold,
How thou might’st not measure bliss
E’en when eyes and hands drew nigh.
Thou rememberest all regret
For the scarce remembered kiss,
The lost dream of how they met,
Mouths once parched with misery.
Then seemed Love born but to die,
Now unrest, pain, bliss are one,
Love, unhidden and alone.
poem by William Morris
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Fishers of Men
I had a dream, a varied dream:
Before my ravished sight
The city of my Lord arose,
With all its love and light.
The music of a myriad harps
Flowed out with sweet accord;
And saints were casting down their crowns
In homage to our Lord.
My heart leaped up with untold joy;
Life's toil and pain were o'er;
My weary feet at last had found
The bright and restful shore.
Just as I reached the gates of light,
Ready to enter in,
From earth arose a fearful cry
Of sorrow and of sin.
I turned, and saw behind me surge
A wild and stormy sea;
And drowning men were reaching out
Imploring hands to me.
And ev'ry lip was blanched with dread
And moaning for relief;
The music of the golden harps
Grew fainter for their grief.
Let me return, I quickly said,
Close to the pearly gate;
My work is with these wretched ones,
So wrecked and desolate.
An angel smiled and gently said:
This is the gate of life,
Wilt thou return to earth's sad scenes,
Its weariness and strife,
To comfort hearts that sigh and break,
To dry the falling tear,
Wilt thou forego the music sweet
Entrancing now thy ear?
I must return, I firmly said,
The strugglers in that sea
Shall not reach out beseeching hands
In vain for help to me.
I turned to go; but as I turned
The gloomy sea grew bright,
And from my heart there seemed to flow
Ten thousand cords of light.
And sin-wrecked men, with eager hands,
Did grasp each golden cord;
And with my heart I drew them on
To see my gracious Lord.
Again I stood beside the gate.
My heart was glad and free;
For with me stood a rescued throng
The Lord had given me.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Hymn XXVI: I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God
I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever closed to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me we;
That pledge of love for ever there!
How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered in thy bleeding side,
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.
What are our works but sin and death,
Till thou thy quickening Spirit breathe!
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move;
O wondrous grace! O boundless love!
How can it be, thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?
Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are lost; nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught beside,
'My Lord, my Love is crucified.'
Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues, to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable.
First-born of many brethren thou!
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To thee our hearts and hands we give:
Thine may we die, thine may we live!
poem by Charles Wesley
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Hymn XXVI: I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God
I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever closed to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me we;
That pledge of love for ever there!
How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered in thy bleeding side,
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.
What are our works but sin and death,
Till thou thy quickening Spirit breathe!
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move;
O wondrous grace! O boundless love!
How can it be, thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?
Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are lost; nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught beside,
"My Lord, my Love is crucified."
Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues, to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable.
First-born of many brethren thou!
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To thee our hearts and hands we give:
Thine may we die, thine may we live!
poem by John Wesley
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Can I Be With You, O' Love?
dear love, o' love, love
can i be with you, o' love?
can i stay with you, o' dear love?
o' love, love, love
you are the perfect key to every heart
((o' love!))
you are the string to every heart
((dear love!))
you are the peace to my heart
((love, o' love!))
your mood is so emotional
but your love is so natural
you are the wood to my art
to carry me by the walls of my heart
can i be with you?
o' love,
wont you leave and gone?
dear love,
can i talk with you?
pure love,
can i walk with you?
soul love,
you are the need to my wish,
(that is love)
you are the feed to my dish,
(such is love)
you are the strength to the weak,
(o' love)
you are the length to the thick,
(endless love)
can i be with you?
o' love
wondering not but,
is my heart there?
or has it faded?
is it beating?
or has it deflated?
o' how i wish love you were
so close to mine and there
to stone me a love with care
yes, i stare
with eyes of love and share
love with her that dare
to share,
i ask with no one...
can i fall in love
with you, o' dear love?
wont you escape my heart?
wont you run away from love?
wont you fade away from love?
come stay with me, o' dear love
come lay with me, not tear love
some blame with you, but care love
come wave with me, share love
you are the perfect key to every heart
((o' love!))
you are the string to every heart
((dear love!))
you are the peace to my heart
((love, o' love!))
come be with me
((o' dear love))
opn02122012/0345
poem: can i be with you?
book: the melody of my heart
book no.14 of 2012
december 2012
email: [email protected]
[email protected]
facebook: opnmambo
twitter: @opnmambo
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Hymn XXV: Stupendous Love of God Most High!
Stupendous love of God most high!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty;
Full of unutterable grace,
He calls the weary burdened race,
'Come all for help to me.'
Tired with the greatness of my way,
From him I would no longer stray,
But rest in Jesus have;
Weary of sin, from sin would cease,
Weary of mine own righteousness,
And stoop, myself to save.
Weary of passions unsubdued,
Weary of vows in vain renewed,
Of forms without the power,
Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans,
My fainting soul in silence owns
I can hold out no more.
Beneath this mountain load of grief,
Of guilt and desperate unbelief,
Jesus, thy creature see;
With all my nature's weight oppressed,
I sink, I die for want of rest,
Yet cannot come to thee.
Mine utter helplessness I feel;
But thou, who gav'st the feeble will,
The effectual grace supply;
Be thou my strength, my light, my way,
And bid my soul the call obey,
And to thy bosom fly.
Fulfil thine own intense desire,
And now into my heart inspire
The power of faith and love;
Then, Saviour, then to thee I come,
And find on earth the life, the home,
The rest of saints above.
poem by Charles Wesley
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Pensive Thought
Your youthful beauty found peace on your face
As thy wandered the path of love of the past
Effeminate and innocent where love took its place
In the memory of your heart, where your first love last
Pensive thou long in love's sweet air
And think of love inundated in potion
Thy look so grave, in its grave thy stare
With all your love, in love's sweet motion
My heart knew then, that thou heart I wear
The look of my love, forever and soft
When thou pensively dream with out a care
My love raises with thou pensive thought aloft
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Hymn XXV: Stupendous Love of God Most High!
Stupendous love of God most high!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty;
Full of unutterable grace,
He calls the weary burdened race,
"Come all for help to me."
Tired with the greatness of my way,
From him I would no longer stray,
But rest in Jesus have;
Weary of sin, from sin would cease,
Weary of mine own righteousness,
And stoop, myself to save.
Weary of passions unsubdued,
Weary of vows in vain renewed,
Of forms without the power,
Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans,
My fainting soul in silence owns
I can hold out no more.
Beneath this mountain load of grief,
Of guilt and desperate unbelief,
Jesus, thy creature see;
With all my nature's weight oppressed,
I sink, I die for want of rest,
Yet cannot come to thee.
Mine utter helplessness I feel;
But thou, who gav'st the feeble will,
The effectual grace supply;
Be thou my strength, my light, my way,
And bid my soul the call obey,
And to thy bosom fly.
Fulfil thine own intense desire,
And now into my heart inspire
The power of faith and love;
Then, Saviour, then to thee I come,
And find on earth the life, the home,
The rest of saints above.
poem by John Wesley
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Verses, On The Death Of The Same Lady
LIKE a poor ghost the night I seek;
ts hollow winds repeat my sighs;
The cold dews mingle on my cheek
With tears that wander from mine eyes.
The thorns that still my couch molest,
Have robb'd these heavy eyes of sleep;
But though deprived of tranquil rest,
I here at last am free to weep.
Twelve times the moon, that rises red
O'er yon tall wood of shadowy pine,
Has fill'd her orb, since low was laid
My Harriet! that sweet form of thine!
While each sad month, as slow it pass'd,
Brought some new sorrow to deplore;
Some grief more poignant than the last,
But thou canst calm those griefs no more.
No more thy friendship soothes to rest
This wearied spirit tempest-toss'd;
The cares that weigh upon my breast
Are doubly felt since thou art lost.
Bright visions of ideal grace
That the young poet's dreams inflame,
Were not more lovely than thy face;
Were not more perfect than thy frame.
Wit, that no sufferings could impair,
Was thine, and thine those mental powers
Of force to chase the fiends that tear
From Fancy's hands her budding flowers.
O'er what, my angel friend, thou wert,
Dejected Memory loves to mourn;
Regretting still that tender heart,
Now withering in a distant urn.
But ere that wood of shadowy pine
Twelve times shall yon full orb behold,
This sickening heart, that bleeds for thine,
My Harriet!—may like thine be cold!
poem by Charlotte Smith
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Awakenings
Confusion, uncertainties, low self esteem
Depression, tearfulness, fear in its extreme
Loss of self confidence in everything
That’s all I have experienced
How really, really dim.
My greatest sin, a shadow of love
For I have prayed day and night
The love in me may subside
Anger, hatred that’s what I found
Inside my heart, it comes alive.
I thought for awhile, bear in mind
That if I am as cold as an ice
I will not be hurt, sad in life
They will not care I told myself
Who do really care, I mutter.
But I was wrong, how selfish I was
Because the greatest gift of God above
Is the grace of love that He gave for us
The love, faith and hope I should have
To conquer the fear that once I had.
Now I knew that in our life
Food, shelter and air are not enough
God whispered to me one starry night
That without love in our heart
Our bones will dry, our spirit died.
Without that trauma and tears I sowed
I would never know God loves me so
He stayed, never leave me though
I was a fool to ignore Him I knew
Forgive me Lord, change me a new.
I considered all these sufferings
Not a cruel fate though it may seem
But the brightest light, rays that gleam
An opener to the concealed dreams
To reclaim the love I had lost in dim.
Unusual things happened in my life
As I looked back, now I’ve realized
God has a purpose, He lifted me up
So that I can change, He gave me chance
To redirect my way into His path.
(the very first poem I've made)
poem by Rose de Ramar
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The Goal
I have found joy,
Surcease from sorrow,
From qualms for today
And fears for tomorrow.
I have found love,
Sifted of pain,
Of life's harsh goading
And worldly disdain.
I have found peace,
Still-borne from grief,
From soul's bitter mocking
And heart's unbelief.
Now may I rest,
Soul-glad and free,
For Lord, in the travil,
I have found Thee.
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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Verses IV
On the Death of the same Lady, written in Sept. 1794.
LIKE a poor ghost the night I seek;
Its hollow winds repeat my sighs;
The cold dews mingle on my cheek
With tears that wander from mine eyes.
The thorns that still my couch molest,
Have robb'd these heavy eyes of sleep;
But though deprived of tranquil rest,
I here at last am free to weep.
Twelve times the moon, that rises red
O'er yon tall wood of shadowy pine,
Has fill'd her orb, since low was laid
My Harriet! that sweet form of thine!
While each sad month, as slow it pass'd,
Brought some new sorrow to deplore;
Some grief more poignant than the last,
But thou canst calm those griefs no more.
No more thy friendship soothes to rest
This wearied spirit tempest-toss'd;
The cares that weigh upon my breast
Are doubly felt since thou art lost.
Bright visions of ideal grace
That the young poet's dreams inflame,
Were not more lovely than thy face;
Were not more perfect than thy frame.
Wit, that no sufferings could impair,
Was thine, and thine those mental powers
Of force to chase the fiends that tear
From Fancy's hands her budding flowers.
O'er what, my angel friend, thou wert,
Dejected Memory loves to mourn;
Regretting still that tender heart,
Now withering in a distant urn.
But ere that wood of shadowy pine
Twelve times shall yon full orb behold,
This sickening heart, that bleeds for thine,
My Harriet!--may like thine be cold!
poem by Charlotte Smith
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The Skylark's Message
SWEET little upturned faces,
Poor little hands and feet,
Little eyes that are careworn and anxious
From hunger and want in the street,
Hear ye that skylark singing
5
Like an angel far away?
'Tis bringing to you a message
From the Golden Gates of day.
Ah, little know ye of the meadows,
Poor little blistered feet,
10
Down in the smoke of the city,
Down in the noise of the street!
But it sings of a better country,
Where tired little hearts can rest;
Of a sun that shines for ever,
15
And the love of a Father's breast.
O poor little weary spirits,
I would that ye knew its song,
For the world is very heartless,
And your journey may be long;
20
And ye need such heavenly music
To cheer you in the night,
Little hearts that are now so noble,
Little souls that are now so white.
I would that ye heard it always,
25
That sweet bird's voice within,
When the heart is sad and lonely
In the long, long struggle with sin;
Till a rest comes out of the sunset
For the labouring hands and feet,
30
And a silence has fallen for ever
On the noise and the dust of the street.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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A Heart In Winter
A lonely and troubled heart
Crying for love from another
Trying to love another
A heart that suffers within
So cold than the iced mountains
Without a melt from the sun that shines during summer
A heart that finds no rest
Temptation is it's source
Deep pain and deep sorrow a heart lives with
It's not all about cold, but cold love
A heart that needs warm love to comfort
Years leaps over still a heart is the same
A heart of pain and depression
A heart in winter time.
poem by Marlene Rashidi
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Unfortunate
Fold her hands upon her breast,
And let her sweetly sleep.
She has found a perfect rest,
Beneath her winding sheet.
Her weary limbs are now at rest,
And free from toil and pain;
Her weary soul from earth has left,
But in Heaven lives again.
Death has closed her mild blue eyes,
That once was full of mirth,
Her lovely form once full of life,
Will now return to earth.
Touch her gently, let her lie,
This forsaken girl forlorn;
Tears may fall from strangers' eyes,
O'er her silent form.
She was a poor erring girl,
A wanderer alone,
Friends she had none in this world,
Nor a place she could call home.
She's found a home bright and fair
In that world above,
Angels dwell together there,
In perfect peace and love,
Place her gently in her grave,
And let her sweetly sleep.
Judge her not; for he who gave
Her life, her soul will keep.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Rest Of My Life
Suddenly, it happened so fast
I couldn't believe the news that I received
My heart stopped as I hit the floor
I fell to my knees cryin' Lord help me
No matter what time brings
All the changes we go through
In life there's some things
We just can't prepare for
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
Don't they know
True love never dies
I promise to love you for the rest of my life
Life goes on that's what they say
Time will heal all your pain away
But I feel, feel so alone and
Now you're gone how can I live on
No matter what time brings
All the changes we go through
In life there's some things
We just can't prepare for
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
Don't they know
True love never dies
I promise to love you for the rest of my life
Until I see you again
I'll hold on to sweet memories
I'll treasure the times we spent
I see I'd do anything
I see your face, I see your smile
Callin' out my name
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
Don't they know true love never dies
I promise to love you for the rest of my life
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
I don't care what they say
I don't care what they do
What they think
'Cause I promise, I promise
To love you for the rest of my life
(for the rest of my life
song performed by by Xscape
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Healing Prayer
My hands are folded as i bow down and pray
My expectant heart is waiting for you to say
Go in peace, rise my child, don't worry
I will be here for you till eternity
Heal me oh, Lord, i beg of you
say your word, and i promise you
My heart, my mind, just for you
Seeking your face wherever you go.
I need your healing touch now
I need your comfort, your peace
I need to relax, to be calm
Touch me and i will be healed
To you I come for mercy and grace
To you I uncover my wounds
To you i bare my shame
Just for you, i will show outwardly
That I owe you worship and my adoration.
And then i am in peace
In the thought of your love
Finding rest in the assurance
That you will hear me..In your time.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Chained Heart
Unchain this wounded heart: let the healing conquer the patches
Unchain this wounded soul: let love flow through it's crystal clear veins
Unchain me: Unchain my heart
Through your love: I found myself
Through your sorrow: I got hurt
Through your pain: I found never drying tears
Unchain me: Unchain my heart
I held on too long
I held on something strong
I held on something sincere
I held on something special
Unchain me: Unchain my heart
Am in a prison: A prison of love
Finding the key for unknown locks is complicated
Setting me free is the last option in his mind
For the pain: I went through
For the love your found hard to return
For the times you took me for granted
Unchain me: Unchain my heart;
Unchain me: Unchain my heart
A heart that loves you:
A heart that waited for you
A heart that is bleeding
A heart that is almost loosing its beat
Unchain me: Unchain this wounded heart of mine
poem by Sylviah Salima
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A Love So Pure
Always did it on my own then one day I realized
I was blind,, nothing I could do on my own
Turn, we have found a way to see, look up... feel the Almighty
Take control as we gaze into your eyes
We're just the tool you use to bring this world to you
Oh, Lord, how we love you
With your grace, take away the hurt and the bruises inside,
reach down let your glory reside
The cross carried for all of us, paint the image in my mind
So I will never think I am something,
but nothing am I but you, you are something
Lord you keep me alive, you give me rest at night
When there seems no way to find calmness in the storm you come and
take me in your arms and then the waves drown me no more
With you I'll last this battle and many others
Through the ages your name will reigh forever... never to be replaced
In these trials I face, I pray you humble me
Humble me I want to be like you Jesus more and more like you
I was crucified on that day with Christ
Nailing you there with sin, accepting you
I nailed my soul to the cross and now my life begins
This world so cold but your love keeps me warm
My father holds me in his nailed scarred hands which I put there
But for some reason he still loves me with all his heart
Even through I betray him constantly
He always keeps his arms open waiting, till I give up my old was
God my father, you are the only one that can give me comfort
You touch my heart in such a way that all I can do is cry your name
Jesus Christ I love you
My heart aches for your love
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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