In the Hour of Trial
In the hour of trial, Jesus, plead for me,
Lest by base denial I depart from Thee.
When Thou seest me waver, with a look recall,
Nor for fear or favor suffer me to fall.
With forbidden pleasures would this vain world charm,
Or its sordid treasures spread to work me harm,
Bring to my remembrance sad Gethsemane,
Or, in darker semblance, cross-crowned Calvary.
Should Thy mercy send me sorrow, toil and woe,
Or should pain attend me on my path below,
Grant that I may never fail Thy hand to see;
Grant that I may ever cast my care on Thee.
When my last hour cometh, fraught with strife and pain,
When my dust returneth to the dust again,
On Thy truth relying, through that mortal strife,
Jesus, take me, dying, to eternal life.
poem by James Montgomery
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The Vine and The Branches
Friend, Jesus Christ is the Vine, Christians are but the branches.
And The Lord is indeed Divine, and through all our circumstances.
The Lord Jesus is over all time, and with Him there are no chances.
And as my Savior, He is mine, and it is in Christ I take my stances.
Sure and faithful is Jesus Christ, for The Lord is true and He is just.
Jesus is the very Savior of my life, and in The Lord I place my trust,
As I go through pain and strife, abiding is not an option, it’s a must.
My very being I owe to Christ, for my frame my friend, it is but dust.
When I asked Jesus into my life, He entered my heart to live inside.
To the Living Vine of Jesus Christ, as a branch, in Him I must abide.
And as I go through pain and strife, by Jesus Christ, I’m not denied.
For in my trial I know that Christ, is the fortress in whom I can hide.
It is through the Vine of Jesus Christ, I receive strength and power.
It is there to tap throughout my life, in every day and in every hour.
Friend, when I walk into strife, a peace pours on me like a shower.
And as I hold fast to Jesus Christ, I have no need to fear or cower.
So come from any circumstance, to Christ the Vine and be a branch.
And even though we are but dust, in Him we can have Eternal Trust.
If in your heart, Christ is not denied, with Him you will eternally abide.
Come make a choice this very hour, and be filled with eternal power.
The Curse of Kehama
I charm thy life,
From the weapons of strife,
From stone and from wood,
From fire and from flood,
From the serpent’s tooth,
And the beast of blood.
From sickness I charm thee,
And time shall not harm thee;
But earth, which is mine,
Its fruits shall deny thee;
And water shall hear me,
And know thee and flee thee:
And the winds shall not touch thee
When they pass by thee,
And the dews shall not wet thee
When they fall nigh thee.
And thou shalt seek death,
To release thee, in vain;
Thou shalt live in thy pain,
While Kehama shall reign,
With a fire in thy heart,
And a fire in thy brain.
And sleep shall obey me,
And visit thee never,
And the curse shall be on thee
Forever and ever.
poem by Robert Southey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Holy Cross
O Holy Cross of Jesus Christ!
How must I come to Calvary?
– By giving up world’s pleasures first,
Carrying my own and follow Thee!
O Holy Cross that Christ had borne!
Take me to Heaven’s narrow gate;
Much strife my body does adorn,
My sufferings never abate!
O Holy Cross on which Christ died!
At times, in life I grow weary,
Although in God, I do abide;
With charm all lost, life seems dreary.
O Holy Cross that satan fears;
Then guide me in the way of light;
My stay on earth almost well nears;
Let Truth be always in my sight!
O Holy Cross: eternal sign;
In Jesus Christ, I trust my soul;
In Maker’s Feast, I wish to dine:
My only aim and earthly goal!
O Holy Cross that saves mankind;
Show me the dress of grace to don;
For only pure a heart and mind
Can see the face of God’s one Son!
poem by John Celes
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The Mediator
O Christ, true Son of God most high,
Thy name we praise for ever;
Whoe'er to Thee for help doth cry
Shall find Thee fail him never;
'Tis Thou wilt plead,
Thou intercede
With God, for us who need Thy prayers so sore:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
To Thee the Father giveth now
All power in earth and heaven;
Sin, Satan, Death to Thee must bow,
All fetters Thou hast riven,
Bade fear to cease,
And made our peace,
That now to God we dare our hearts outpour:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
Fulness of grace is in Thy Word;
The Life, the Truth, the Way
To life eternal art Thou, Lord;
To Thee alone we pray,
Who didst appear
A servant here
To bear the sin that crushed the world before:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
poem by Hans Sachs
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Dies Irae
On that great, that awful day,
This vain world shall pass away.
Thus the sibyl sang of old,
Thus hath holy David told.
There shall be a deadly fear
When the Avenger shall appear,
And unveiled before his eye
All the works of man shall lie.
Hark! to the great trumpet's tones
Pealing o'er the place of bones:
Hark! it waketh from their bed
All the nations of the dead,--
In a countless throng to meet,
At the eternal judgment seat.
Nature sickens with dismay,
Death may not retain its prey;
And before the Maker stand
All the creatures of his hand.
The great book shall be unfurled,
Whereby God shall judge the world;
What was distant shall be near,
What was hidden shall be clear.
To what shelter shall I fly?
To what guardian shall I cry?
Oh, in that destroying hour,
Source of goodness, Source of power,
Show thou, of thine own free grace,
Help unto a helpless race.
Though I plead not at thy throne
Aught that I for thee have done,
Do not thou unmindful be,
Of what thou hast borne for me:
Of the wandering, of the scorn,
Of the scourge, and of the thorn.
Jesus, hast thou borne the pain,
And hath all been borne in vain?
Shall thy vengeance smite the head
For whose ransom thou hast bled?
Thou, whose dying blessing gave
Glory to a guilty slave:
Thou, who from the crew unclean
Didst release the Magdalene:
Shall not mercy vast and free,
Evermore be found in thee?
Father, turn on me thine eyes,
See my blushes, hear my cries;
Faint though be the cries I make,
Save me for thy mercy's sake,
From the worm, and from the fire,
From the torments of thine ire.
Fold me with the sheep that stand
Pure and safe at thy right hand.
Hear thy guilty child implore thee,
Rolling in the dust before thee.
Oh the horrors of that day!
When this frame of sinful clay,
Starting from its burial place,
Must behold thee face to face.
Hear and pity, hear and aid,
Spare the creatures thou hast made.
Mercy, mercy, save, forgive,
Oh, who shall look on thee and live?
poem by Thomas Babbington Macaulay
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Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken
Jesus, I my cross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee.
Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shall be.
Perish every fond ambition, all I’ve sought or hoped or known.
Yet how rich is my condition! God and heaven are still mine own.
Let the world despise and leave me, they have left my Savior, too.
Human hearts and looks deceive me; Thou art not, like them, untrue.
And while Thou shalt smile upon me, God of wisdom, love and might,
Foes may hate and friends disown me, show Thy face and all is bright.
Go, then, earthly fame and treasure! Come, disaster, scorn and pain!
In Thy service, pain is pleasure; with Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee, “Abba, Father”; I have set my heart on Thee:
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, all must work for good to me.
Man may trouble and distress me, ’twill but drive me to Thy breast.
Life with trials hard may press me; heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, ’tis not in grief to harm me while Thy love is left to me;
Oh, ’twere not in joy to charm me, were that joy unmixed with Thee.
Take, my soul, thy full salvation; rise o’er sin, and fear, and care;
Joy to find in every station something still to do or bear:
Think what Spirit dwells within thee; what a Father’s smile is thine;
What a Savior died to win thee, child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?
Haste then on from grace to glory, armed by faith, and winged by prayer,
Heaven’s eternal day’s before thee, God’s own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission, swift shall pass thy pilgrim days;
Hope soon change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise.
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Just A Closer Walk With Thee
I am weak but Thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I'll be satisfied as long as I walk
Dear Lord, close to Thee.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
Through this world of toils and snares
If I falter Lord, who cares?
Who with me my burden shares?
None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
When my feeble life is o'er
And time for me will be no more
Guide me gently, safely o'er
To Thy kingdom dear Lord, to Thy shore.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
--- Instrumental to fade ---
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Core Truths To Salvation
There are core Truths we believe, from The Word that we receive,
Truths out of God’s Revelation, which lead a soul unto Salvation.
The first Truth is a belief in God, this I say with a resounding nod,
The Creator of all that we see, The Lord God who exists eternally.
The top of God’s Creation plan, was when The Lord created man,
From the dust man was formed; in God’s image he was adorned,
Created to be eternal with a soul, but, from perfection he did fall,
When in Paradise Satan entered in, introducing man to mortal sin.
That perfection man had at first, was now stained by sin’s curse,
Initially given immortal breath, man now would face certain death.
God would provide by His Son, eternal redemption for everyone,
In His Plan, He called Jesus Christ, to be man’s atoning sacrifice.
This would point to the Cross, where God had redeemed the lost,
On a wicked cross on Calvary, where Christ died for you and me.
This is the very heart of Grace, where sinners can place their faith,
In the finished work of Jesus Christ, who paid God’s eternal price.
But, Christ who died rose again, to grant a New Life to sinful men,
When this Truth you do believe, Eternal Life you shall you receive.
These are Truths for everyone, through the Witness of God’s Son,
When they embrace their Creator, as their Lord and Eternal Savior.
(Copyright ©08/2009)
God's Grace And Mercy
God’s Grace and Mercy work hand in hand in Christ, who came to serve,
It is because of His Mercy, we do not receive what we truly deserve.
And it’s by God’s Grace; we do receive what we do not truly deserve.
This eternal message of Hope is to be preached until all have heard.
Our fallen nature deep within, creates a propensity for all to sin,
The effect from all our sin has been a filling of God’s indignation.
And what we deserve because of sin is God’s Righteous Condemnation.
All because God is Pure within and can not coexist with wicked sin.
Sin has a price that must be paid and our sins on Christ were laid,
The wages of sin is death my friend and this was Jesus’ earthly end.
God prepared a body for Him so Christ could die to take away our sin.
He who had no sin was made sin for us and then He died on the cross.
With an impossible task for us to face, God sent to us Saving Grace,
With man facing eternal death Jesus spoke this with His dying breath,
“It is finished! ” As He served a dying world what we didn’t deserve,
He came into this world of strife so that we could gain Eternal Life.
Jesus did not deserve to die, but my friend, He did it for you and I.
He left a Majestic Throne on high coming to earth so we wouldn’t die.
Becoming a curse for you and me, Christ pardoned our sin at Calvary,
And only through Him can we live in Heaven with God through Eternity.
Fear No More
Fear no more the heat o' the sun;
Nor the furious winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney sweepers come to dust.
Fear no more the frown of the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dread thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan;
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!
poem by William Shakespeare
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Last Words
A dreadful darkness closes in
On my bewildered mind;
O let me suffer and not sin,
Be tortured yet resigned.
Through all this world of whelming mist
Still let me look to Thee,
And give me courage to resist
The Tempter till he flee.
Weary I am -- O give me strength
And leave me not to faint;
Say Thou wilt comfort me at length
And pity my complaint.
I've begged to serve Thee heart and soul,
To sacrifice to Thee
No niggard portion, but the whole
Of my identity.
I hoped amid the brave and strong
My portioned task might lie,
To toil amid the labouring throng
With purpose pure and high.
But Thou hast fixed another part,
And Thou hast fixed it well;
I said so with my breaking heart
When first the anguish fell.
For Thou hast taken my delight
And hope of life away,
And bid me watch the painful night
And wait the weary day.
The hope and the delight were Thine;
I bless Thee for their loan;
I gave Thee while I deemed them mine
Too little thanks, I own.
Shall I with joy Thy blessings share
And not endure their loss?
Or hope the martyr's crown to wear
And cast away the cross?
These weary hours will not be lost,
These days of passive misery,
These nights of darkness anguish tost
If I can fix my heart on Thee.
Weak and weary though I lie,
Crushed with sorrow, worn with pain,
Still I may lift to Heaven mine eyes
And strive and labour not in vain,
That inward strife against the sins
That ever wait on suffering;
To watch and strike where first begins
Each ill that would corruption bring,
That secret labour to sustain
With humble patience every blow,
To gather fortitude from pain
And hope and holiness from woe.
Thus let me serve Thee from my heart
Whatever be my written fate,
Whether thus early to depart
Or yet awhile to wait.
If Thou shouldst bring me back to life
More humbled I should be;
More wise, more strengthened for the strife,
More apt to lean on Thee.
Should Death be standing at the gate
Thus should I keep my vow;
But, Lord, whate'er my future fate
So let me serve Thee now.
poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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God’s Helping Hand
Let The Lord help you today, to find the path of His favored Way,
God’s Way unto abundant Life, the way above the grief and strife.
The helping hand of The Lord, will intervene when He’s implored,
As men seek God’s helping hand, in ways we cannot understand.
God’s helping hand, full of Grace, can help you any time or place,
When you truly desire to live for Him, in this world of darkened sin.
God wants to lead us in His Light, on a path that is pure and right,
So all men can come to know, that He’s a God who loves them so.
God’s hand above is lifted friend, for pending Judgment in the end,
Judgment that’s not destined for, all those men who love The Lord.
For God’s helping hand truly is, His heavenly guide to earthly bliss,
Anchored in The Savior’s Love, sent from The Spirit of God above.
God’s guidance is available to all, leading to Grace from man’s fall,
Where we can meet at the cross, The One who died for all the lost,
Christ who was pierced for you, so you can seek His Guidance too.
Where from the cross of Calvary, Jesus Christ will guide to Eternity.
Jesus Christ who died for all of us, now lives so we can put our trust,
In The One who died for man’s sin, so eternally we can live with Him.
Through God you can be assured, you will find life in Christ our Lord,
For the moment you come to Christ, God shall grant you Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©12/2006)
My Jesus, I Love Thee
My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
For Thee all the follies of sin I resign.
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.
I love Thee because Thou has first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary's tree.
I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.
In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I'll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
I'll sing with the glittering crown on my brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Translated Out Of Gazaeus,
GOD grant thee thine own wish, and grant thee mine,
Thou who dost, best friend, in best things outshine ;
May thy soul, ever cheerful, ne'er know cares,
Nor thy life, ever lively, know grey hairs,
Nor thy hand, ever open, know base holds,
Nor thy purse, ever plump, know pleats, or folds,
Nor thy tongue, ever true, know a false thing,
Nor thy words, ever mild, know quarrelling,
Nor thy works, ever equal, know disguise,
Nor thy fame, ever pure, know contumelies,
Nor thy prayers know low objects, still divine ;
God grant thee thine own wish, and grant thee mine.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ruler's Daughter Raised
Could the creatures help or ease us
Seldom should we think of prayer;
Few, if any, come to Jesus,
Till reduced to self-dispair:
Long we either slight or doubt him,
But when all the means we try,
Prove we cannot do without him,
Then at last to him we cry.
Thus the ruler when his daughter
Suffered much, though Christ was nigh,
Still deferred it, till he thought her
At the very point to die:
Though he mourned for her condition,
He did not entreat the Lord,
Till he found that no physician
But himself, could help afford.
Jesus did not once upbraid him,
That he had no sooner come;
But a gracious answer made him,
And went straitway with him home:
Yet his faith was put to trial
When his servants came, and said,
Though he gave thee no denial,
'Tis too late, the child is dead.
Jesus; to prevent his grieving,
Kindly spoke and eased his pain;
Be not fearful, but believing,
Thou shalt see her live again:
When he found the people weeping,
Cease, he said, no longer mourn;
For she is not dead, but sleeping,
Then they laughed him to scorn.
O thou meek and lowly Savior,
How determined is thy love!
Not this rude unkind behavior,
Could thy gracious purpose move:
Soon as he the room had entered,
Spoke, and took her by the hand;
Death at once his prey surrendered,
And she lived at his command.
Fear not then, distressed believer,
Venture on his mighty name;
He is able to deliver,
And his love is still the same
Can his pity or his power,
Suffer thee to pray in vain;
Wait but his appointed hour,
And thy suit thou shalt obtain.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fidele
FEAR no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o' the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Casting All Your Cares
Cast all your cares to Jesus Christ, and peace will flow into your life.
Just cast every single burden to Him, even those ladened with sin.
Lay them at the foot of the cross, where He died for sins of the lost.
Even when your trials don’t cease, He will fill your heart with peace.
God wants to transform your life, through the power of Jesus Christ.
With the same power He displayed, when our Lord Jesus was raised.
That was three days after friend, for all the world He was condemned.
Where God judged the world’s sin; as our iniquity was placed on Him.
Christ died in much agony and pain, and it was all for our eternal gain.
When all the sin of this world, upon His shoulders by God was hurled.
The Sinless Lamb had died for all; and this to free us from Adam’s fall.
Christ, the firstfruits of God’s love, is now enthroned in Heaven above.
With God’s Power came His Grace, for His Only Son died in our place.
Christ had given His life to rise again, and this is the Hope for all men.
Believers are buried with Jesus Christ, and in Him we rise to New Life.
Christ’s bodily resurrection is the proof, of God’s Glorious Eternal Truth.
Remember that Christ died for all, and our burdens for Him are small.
Christ died to give us all new life, so He can deal with our daily strife.
So cast all your cares at His feet, for in Christ Jesus we are complete.
And until we look upon His face, Christ will sustain us with His Grace.
(Copyright ©02/2006)
Botticelli's Madonna in the Louvre
WHAT strange presentiment, O Mother, lies
On thy waste brow and sadly-folded lips,
Forefeeling the Light's terrible eclipse
On Calvary, as if love made thee wise,
And thou couldst read in those dear infant eyes
The sorrow that beneath their smiling sleeps,
And guess what bitter tears a mother weeps
When the cross darkens her unclouded skies?
Sad Lady, if some mother, passing thee,
Should feel a throb of thy foreboding pain,
And think - 'My child at home clings so to me,
With the same smile . . . and yet in vain, in vain,
Since even this Jesus died on Calvary' -
Say to her then: 'He also rose again.'
poem by Edith Wharton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without The Lord
To live one day without The Lord, is one day you cannot afford,
To live this life on your own, without the Power from His Throne,
While your life God shall fill, with the Spirit’s Power, per His will,
As God powers your daily life, when you walk with Jesus Christ.
For you it’s not a great sacrifice, as The Lord has paid the price,
When He died for you and me, on that bloody Cross of Calvary;
Where He died, for sinners like us, and all we have to do is trust,
In His finished work, on the cross, paid by Christ for sinners lost.
Christ had suffered all the pain, to grant to believers Eternal gain,
He grants, when we truly believe, when The Holy Spirit we receive,
His Spirit of Wisdom and Power, providing us each day and hour,
Being our teacher and our guide, as God’s Spirit now lives inside.
The Spirit goes before us every day, as we walk life’s narrow way,
Supplying strength for life’s race, as He guides us place to place,
In times of trial He grants peace, that from Christ, shall not cease,
With His presence and His light, that overcomes the dark of night.
We gain all this and so much more, when we know Christ as Lord,
With the best, still yet to come, as we labor for Christ’s Kingdom,
God’s Kingdom that has no end, with Christ as our Eternal Friend,
So before you let this day depart, allow the Savior into your heart.
(Copyright ©07/2009)
My Savior, on the Word of Truth
My Savior, on the word of truth
In earnest hope I live;
I ask for all the precious things
Thy boundless love can give.
I look for many a lesser light
About my path to shine;
But chiefly long to walk with Thee,
And only trust in Thine.
In holy expectation held,
Thy strength my heart shall stay,
For Thy right hand will never let
My trust be cast away.
Yea, Thou hast kept me near Thy feet,
In many a deadly strife,
By the stronghold of hope in Thee,
The hope of endless life.
Thou knowest that I am not blest
As Thou wouldst have me be,
Till all the peace and joy of faith
Possess my soul in Thee
And still I seek ’mid many fears,
With yearnings unexpressed,
The comforts of Thy strengthening love,
Thy soothing, settling rest.
It is not as Thou wilt with me,
Till, humbled in the dust;
I know no place in all my heart
Wherein to put my trust.
Until I find, O Lord, in Thee,
The Lowly and the Meek,
That fullness which Thy own redeemed
Go nowhere else to seek.
Then, O my Savior, on my soul,
Cast down, but not dismayed,
Still be Thy chastening, healing hand
In tender, mercy laid.
And while I wait for all Thy joys,
My yearning heart to fill,
Teach me to walk and work with Thee,
And at Thy feet sit still.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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