The Blind Man Of Jericho
He sat by the dusty way-side,
With weary, hopeless mien,
On his furrowed brow the traces
Of care and want were seen;
With outstretched hand and with bowed-down head
He asked the passers-by for bread.
The palm-tree’s feathery foliage
Around him thickly grew,
And the smiling sky above him
Wore Syria’s sun-bright hue;
But dark alike to that helpless one
Was murky midnight or noon-tide sun.
But voices breaking the silence
Are heard, fast drawing nigh,
And falls on his ear the clamor
Of vast crowds moving by:
“What is it?” he asks, with panting breath;
They answer: “Jesus of Nazareth.”
What a spell lay in that title,
Linked with such mem’ries high
Of miracles of mercy,
Wrought ’neath Judaea’s sky!
Loud calls he, with pleading voice and brow,
“Oh! Jesus, on me have mercy now!”
How often had he listened
To wond’rous tales of love—
Of the Galilean’s mercy,
Of power from above,
To none other given of mortal birth
To heal the afflicted sons of earth.
With faith that never wavered
Still louder rose his cry,
Despite the stern rebuking
Of many standing nigh,
Who bade him stifle his grief or joy,
Nor “the Master rudely thus annoy.”
But, soon that voice imploring
Struck on the Saviour’s ear,
He stopped, and to His followers
He said “Go bring him here!”
And, turning towards him that God like brow,
He asked the suppliant, “What wouldest thou?”
Though with awe and hope all trembling,
Yet courage gaineth he,
And imploringly he murmurs:
“Oh Lord! I fain would see!”
The Saviour says in accents low:
“Thy faith hath saved thee—be it so!”
Then on those darkened eye-balls
A wondrous radiance beamed,
And they drank in the glorious beauty
That through all nature gleamed;
But the fairest sight they rested on
Was the Saviour, David’s royal Son.
O rapture past all telling!
The bliss that vision brought!
Could a whole life’s praises thank Him
For the wonder He had wrought?
Yet is Jesus the same to-day as then,
Bringing light and joy to the souls of men.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Blind Bartimaeus
He would not let Jesus pass him by.
Called out to the Saviour with a loud cry.
It was his last chance to be made whole.
For blind from birth was this poor soul.
The crowd rebuked him to keep silent
but he cried out the more for he was intent
not to miss the Lord and let him pass by.
'Have mercy on me' was his loud cry.
Jesus stopped and bid them bring the man.
And jumping to his feet to Jesus he ran.
The Lord then said 'What do you want of me? '
'Rabbi', Bartimaeus said, 'I want to see.'
Immediately Jesus restored his sight
for he had faith that Jesus would put it right.
Then following Jesus along the way
his life had been miraculously changed that day.
As Bartimaeus we too have been born blind
and need like him the Saviour to find.
To cry 'Son of David have mercy on me.
Open my eyes, Lord, I want to see.'
It is at the cross that all can see
the extent of God's love for you and me.
And say to Jesus, 'Saviour hear my cry
while You touch others do not pass me by.'
Based on Mark 10: 46-52
* Spiritually blind
The Ten Lepers
’Neath the olives of Samaria, in far-famed Galilee,
Where dark green vines are mirrored in a placid silver sea,
’Mid scenes of tranquil beauty, glowing sun-sets, rosy dawn,
The Master and disciples to the city journeyed on.
And, as they neared a valley where a sheltered hamlet lay,
A strange, portentous wailing made them pause upon their way—
Voices fraught with anguish, telling of aching heart and brow,
Which kept moaning: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us now!”
Softly raised the gentle Saviour His eyes like midnight star,
And His mournful gaze soon rested on ten lepers, who, afar,
Stood motionless and suppliant, in sackcloth rudely clothed,
Poor Pariahs! by their nearest, their dearest, shunned and loathed.
Not unto Him prayed vainly those sore afflicted ten,
No! He yearned too fondly over the erring sons of men,
Even sharing in their sorrows, though He joined not in their feasts,—
So He kindly told the Lepers: “Show yourselves unto the priests.”
When, miracle of mercy! as they turned them to obey,
And towards the Holy Temple quickly took their hopeful way,
Lo! the hideous scales fell off them, health’s fountains were unsealed,
Their skin grew soft as infant’s—their leprosy was healed.
O man! so oft an ingrate, to thy thankless nature true,
Thyself see in those Lepers, who did as thou dost do;
Nine went their way rejoicing, healed in body—glad in soul—
Nor once thought of returning thanks to Him who made them whole.
One only, a Samaritan, a stranger to God’s word,
Felt his joyous, panting bosom, with gratitude deep stirred,
And without delay he hastened, in the dust, at Jesus’ feet,
To cast himself in worship, in thanksgiving, warm and meet.
Slowly questioned him the Saviour, with majesty divine:—
“Ten were cleansed from their leprosy—where are the other nine?
Is there none but this one stranger—unlearned in Gods ways,
His name and mighty power, to give word of thanks or praise?”
The sunbeams’ quivering glories softly touched that God-like head,
The olives blooming round Him sweet shade and fragrance shed,
While o’er His sacred features a tender sadness stole:
“Rise, go thy way,” He murmured, “thy faith hath made thee whole!”
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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The Crucifixion of Christ
Composed, by Special Request, 18th June 1890
Then Pilate, the Roman Governor, took Jesus and scourged Him,
And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and thought it no sin
To put it on His head, while meekly Jesus stands;
They put on Him a purple robe, and smote Him with their hands.
Then Pilate went forth again, and said unto them,
Behold, I bring Him forth to you, but I cannot Him condemn,
And I would have you to remember I find no fault in Him,
And to treat Him too harshly 'twould be a sin.
But the rabble cried. Hail, King of the Jews, and crucify Him;
But Pilate saith unto them, I find in Him no sin;
Then Jesus came forth, looking dejected and wan,
And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the Man.
Then the Jews cried out, By our laws He ought to die,
Because He made Himself the Son of God the Most High;
And when Pilate heard that saying the Jews had made,
He saw they were dissatisfied, and he was the more afraid.
And to release Jesus Pilate did really intend,
But the Jews cried angrily, Pilate, thou art not Caesar's friend,
Remember, if thou let this vile impostor go,
It only goes to prove thou art Caesar's foe.
When Pilate heard that he felt very irate,
Then he brought Josus forth, and sat down in the judgment-seat,
In a place that is called the Pavement,
While the Blessed Saviour stood calm and content.
The presence of His enemies did not Him appal,
When Pilate asked of Him, before them all,
Whence art Thou, dost say from on High?
But Jesus, the Lamb of God, made no reply.
Then saith Pilate unto Him, Speakest Thou not unto me,
Remember, I have the power to crucify Thee;
But Jesus answered, Thou hast no power at all against me,
Except from above it were given to thee.
Then Pilate to the Jews loudly cried,
Take Him away to be crucified;
Then the soldiers took Jesus and led Him away,
And He, bearing His Cross, without dismay.
And they led Him to a place called Golgotha,
But the Saviour met His fate without any awe,
And there crucified Him with two others, one on either side,
And Jesus in the midst, whilst the Jews did Him deride.
Then Pilate tried to pacify the Jews, they felt so morose,
And he wrote a title, and put it on the Cross;
And the title he wrote did the Jews amuse,
The writing was, Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews.
This title read many of the Jews without any pity;
And the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the city;
And the title was written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin,
And while reading the title the Jews did laugh and grin.
While on the Cross the sun refused to shine,
And there was total darkness for a long time;
The reason was God wanted to hide His wounds from view,
And He kept the blessed sun from breaking through.
And to quench His thirst they gave Him vinegar and hyssop,
While the blood from His wounded brow copiously did drop,
Then He drank of it willingly, and bowed His head,
And in a few minutes the dear Saviour was dead.
Then Joseph of Arimathea sadly did grieve,
And he asked if Pilate would give him leave
To take the body of Jesus away,
And Pilate told him to remove it without delay.
Then Joseph took the body of Jesus away,
And wound it in linen, which was the Jewish custom of that day,
And embalmed his body with spices sweet,
Then laid it in a new sepulchre, as Joseph thought meet.
But death could not hold Him in the grave,
Because He died poor sinners' souls to save;
And God His Father took Him to Heaven on high;
And those that believe in Jesus shall never die.
Oh! think of the precious Blood our Saviour did loss,
That flowed from His wounds while on the Cross,
Especially the wound in His side, made with a spear,
And if you are a believer, you will drop a silent tear.
And if you are not a believer, try and believe,
And don't let the devil any longer you deceive,
Because the precious Blood that Jesus shed will free you from all sin,
Therefore, believe in the Saviour, and Heaven you shall enter in!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Bartimaeus
Mercy, O thou Son of David!
Thus blind Bartimaeus prayed;
Others by thy word are saved,
Now to me afford thine aid:
Many for his crying chid him,
But he called the louder still;
Till the gracious Saviour bid him
Come, and ask me what you will.
Money was not what he wanted,
Though by begging used to live;
But he asked, and Jesus granted
Alms, which none but he could give:
Lord remove this grievous blindness,
Let my eyes behold the day;
Strait he saw, and won by kindness,
Followed Jesus in the way.
O! methinks I hear him praising,
Publishing to all around;
Friends, is not my case amazing?
What a Saviour I have found:
O! that all the blind but knew him,
And would be advised by me!
Surely, would they hasten to him,
He would cause them all to see.
poem by John Newton
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 9)
By boat, He crossed and came to His own town;
They brought a paralytic on a bed;
When Jesus saw their faith, He said to him,
‘Courage, your sins have been forgiven you.’
At this some scribes began to tell themselves,
‘This man blasphemes for He forgives man’s sins! ’
As Jesus knew what they were thinking then,
He asked, ‘Why do you harbor evil thoughts? ’
Say which is easier saying, ‘Your sins are
Forgiven or rise and walk, ’ Thus Jesus asked.
‘To prove the Son of Man has power on earth
To forgive sins, He told the sick person,
‘Arise, pick up your stretcher, and go home.’
The man rose immediately and went home.
Awe-struck, the crowd then glorified the Lord,
For giving such authority to man.
As Jesus passed, he saw a man Matthew,
Sitting at the customs’ post. He told him,
‘Follow me.’ He got up and followed Him.’
And at the table, in His house, there sat
Tax-collectors and sinners with Jesus.
The Pharisees then asked his disciples,
‘Why does your teacher eat with such people? ’
As Jesus heard, he said, ‘Those that are well
Don’t need a physician but sick ones do.’
‘Go learn the meaning of the words, ’ He said:
‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice;
I came to call sinners, and not righteous.’
Then the disciples of John asked Jesus,
‘Why do the Pharisees and we, fast much?
Why don’t your disciples fast anytime? ’
Then Jesus asked, ‘Can wedding guests mourn when
Their bridegroom stays along with them as long?
Those days will come when bridegroom has to leave,
And then the wedding guests will fast like you.’
‘No one will patch an old cloak with new cloth;
For, when the new cloth shrinks, the tear gets worse.
Neither they put new wine in old wine-skins;
For, both the skins burst and the wine spills out.
They fill new wine in only new wine-skins;
Both are preserved and destroyed is not one.’
Just then, an official came to Jesus,
Knelt down to Him and said, ‘My daughter’s dead! ’
But if you lay your hand on her, she’ll live.’
Jesus followed him with his disciples.
A woman menorrhagic for twelve years,
Behind him came and touched His cloak’s tassel;
She said to herself, ‘If I can but touch
The fringe of His garment, I shall be cured!
Then Jesus turned around and said to her,
‘Courage my daughter, your faith has saved you.’
And at that moment, that woman got cured.
When Jesus reached the official’s house, then
A crowd had gathered, causing commotion;
He said, ‘Just leave, the girl’s not dead but sleeps! ’
The people there ridiculed Him for this;
When Jesus took the girl by hand, she rose;
The news then spread throughout the land quite fast.
As Jesus passed, two blind men followed Him,
And cried, ‘O son of David, pity us.’
When Jesus asked them, ‘Do you believe me? ’
They replied, ‘Yes, .my Lord, in one loud voice.
Then Jesus touched their eyes in turns and said,
‘Let it be done according to your faith.’
They got their sight and Jesus warned sternly,
‘See that none come to know about your sight.’
But they went out and spread word of Jesus.
By then, a mute demoniac was brought;
And when the demon was sent out, he spoke.
The crowd was astonished when this happened.
They said, ‘Nothing like this has Israel seen.’
But Pharisees then said, ‘Prince of demons
Is able to drive out other demons.’
Then Jesus went to towns and villages,
And taught in synagogues in all temples,
Proclaiming Gospel of the kingdom and
Curing diseases and illnesses all.
His heart was filled with pity seeing crowds,
Who looked abandoned and troubled in life,
And wandered akin sheep without shepherd.
He said, ‘The harvest is so abundant;
But laborers are few in number found;
So, ask the Master for more harvesters!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-30-2007
poem by John Celes
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Eternal Legacy
The dream began with distant stars, the sun and moon in view.
I looked at Venus, then at Mars and then I saw Earth, too.
Then suddenly they disappeared! No longer in my sight!
What meant the vision that I feared? For all went black as night!
I heard a voice! It stopped my heart! It filled my soul with grief!
Tranquillity was torn apart to question my belief!
I sensed this was the King of Kings, Jesus, the Lord of Lords!
The One of whom each angel sings, the bringer of rewards!
'What's your eternal legacy? ' The Saviour asked me straight.
I showed no sign of certainty and had to make Him wait.
I thought of every noble deed that I had ever done
In answer to the Holy Creed in service to God's Son.
'You know the good, You know the bad! The future's yet to be!
What more have I that's left to add? What extra legacy?
Beyond the property I leave, upon my final breath,
What more on Earth can You receive that follows from my death? '
Then Jesus said, 'Pray for the Jews! Pray for Jerusalem!
Pray for lost souls so they may choose the blood I shed for them!
Ask God to guide your daily path, for light to lead the way,
Before men read your epitaph, save souls from Judgment Day! '
With that a silence followed on... I rose to greet the morn...
The truths He shared have never gone... they meet me every dawn!
I'll not forget the way He spoke that time I lay asleep...
For in that dream, before I woke, I heard my Saviour weep...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Hymn XXIX: Come, Ye Weary Sinners, Come
Come, ye weary sinners, come,
All who groan beneath your load,
Jesus calls his wanderers home,
Hasten to your pardoning God!
Come, ye guilty spirits oppressed,
Answer to the Saviour's call,
'Come, and I will give you rest,
Come, and I will save you all.'
Jesus, full of truth and love,
We thy kindest word obey;
Faithful let thy mercies prove,
Take our load of guilt away;
Fain we would on thee rely,
Cast on thee our every care,
To thine arms of mercy fly,
Find our lasting quiet there.
Burdened with a world of grief,
Burdened with our sinful load,
Burdened with this unbelief,
Burdened with the wrath of God;
Lo! we come to thee for ease,
True and gracious as thou art,
Now our groaning souls release,
Write forgiveness on our heart.
poem by Charles Wesley
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Hymn XXIX: Come, Ye Weary Sinners, Come
Come, ye weary sinners, come,
All who groan beneath your load,
Jesus calls his wanderers home,
Hasten to your pardoning God!
Come, ye guilty spirits oppressed,
Answer to the Saviour's call,
"Come, and I will give you rest,
Come, and I will save you all."
Jesus, full of truth and love,
We thy kindest word obey;
Faithful let thy mercies prove,
Take our load of guilt away;
Fain we would on thee rely,
Cast on thee our every care,
To thine arms of mercy fly,
Find our lasting quiet there.
Burdened with a world of grief,
Burdened with our sinful load,
Burdened with this unbelief,
Burdened with the wrath of God;
Lo! we come to thee for ease,
True and gracious as thou art,
Now our groaning souls release,
Write forgiveness on our heart.
poem by John Wesley
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Thy Faithfulness, Lord
Thy faithfulness, Lord, Each moment we find,
So true to thy word, So loving and kind!
Thy mercy so tender To all the lost race,
The vilest offender May turn and find grace.
The mercy I feel To others I show,
I set to my seal That Jesus is true:
Ye all may find favour Who come at his call,
O come to my Saviour, His grace is for all!
To save what was lost, from heaven he came;
Come, sinners, and trust In Jesus's name.
He offers you pardon; He bids you be free;
'If sin be your burden, O come unto me!'
O let me commend My Saviour to you,
The publican's friend And Advocate too,
For you he is pleading His merits and death,
With God interceding for sinners beneath.
Then let us submit His grace to receive,
Fall down at his feet And gladly believe:
We all are forgiven For Jesus's sake:
Our title to heaven His merits we take.
poem by Charles Wesley
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Looking Unto Jesus
By various maxims, forms and rules,
That pass for wisdom in the schools,
I strove my passion to restrain;
But all my efforts proved in vain.
But since the Saviour I have known
My rules are all reduced to one;
To keep my Lord, by faith, in view,
This strength supplies and motives too.
I see him lead a suff'ring life,
Patient, amidst reproach and strife;
And from his pattern courage take
To bear, and suffer, for his sake.
Upon the cross I see him bleed,
And by the sight from guilt am freed;
This sight destroys the life of sin,
And quickens heav'nly life within.
To look to Jesus as he rose
Confirms my faith, disarms my foes;
Satan I shame and overcome,
By pointing to my Saviour's tomb.
Exalted on his glorious throne,
I see him make my cause his own;
Then all my anxious cares subside,
For Jesus lives, and will provide.
I see him look with pity down,
And hold in view the conqu'ror's crown;
If pressed with griefs and cares before,
My soul revives, nor asks for more.
By faith I see the hour at hand
When in his presence I shall stand;
Then it will be my endless bliss,
To see him where, and as he is.
poem by John Newton
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God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen
God rest you merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour
Was born upon this day,
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
In Bethlehem in Jury
This blessed babe was born,
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn;
The which his mother Mary
Nothing did take in scorn.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
From God our Heavenly Father
A blessed Angel came,
And unto certain Shepherds
Brought tidings of the same,
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by name.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
Fear not, then said the Angel,
Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour
Of virtue, power and might;
So frequently to vanquish all
The friends of Satan quite.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
The Shepherds at those tidings
Rejoiced much in mind,
And left their flocks a feeding
In tempest, storm and wind,
And went to Bethlehem straightway,
This blessed babe to find.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
But when to Bethlehem they came,
Whereas this infant lay,
They found him in a manger
Where oxen feed on hay,
His mother Mary kneeling
Unto the Lord did pray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All others doth deface.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Hymn V: Thy Faithfulness, Lord
Thy faithfulness, Lord, Each moment we find,
So true to thy word, So loving and kind!
Thy mercy so tender To all the lost race,
The vilest offender May turn and find grace.
The mercy I feel To others I show,
I set to my seal That Jesus is true:
Ye all may find favour Who come at his call,
O come to my Saviour, His grace is for all!
To save what was lost, from heaven he came;
Come, sinners, and trust In Jesus's name.
He offers you pardon; He bids you be free;
"If sin be your burden, O come unto me!"
O let me commend My Saviour to you,
The publican's friend And Advocate too,
For you he is pleading His merits and death,
With God interceding for sinners beneath.
Then let us submit His grace to receive,
Fall down at his feet And gladly believe:
We all are forgiven For Jesus's sake:
Our title to heaven His merits we take.
poem by John Wesley
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Nineteenth Sunday After Trinity
When Persecution's torrent blaze
Wraps the unshrinking Martyr's head;
When fade all earthly flowers and bays,
When summer friends are gone and fled,
Is he alone in that dark hour
Who owns the Lord of love and power?
Or waves there not around his brow
A wand no human arm may wield,
Fraught with a spell no angels know,
His steps to guide, his soul to shield?
Thou, Saviour, art his Charmed Bower,
His Magic Ring, his Rock, his Tower.
And when the wicked ones behold
Thy favourites walking in Thy light,
Just as, in fancy triumph bold,
They deemed them lost in deadly night,
Amazed they cry, "What spell is this,
Which turns their sufferings all to bliss?
"How are they free whom we had bound?
Upright, whom in the gulf we cast?
What wondrous helper have they found
To screen them from the scorching blast?
Three were they--who hath made them four?
And sure a form divine he wore,
"E'en like the Son of God." So cried
The Tyrant, when in one fierce flame
The Martyrs lived, the murderers died:
Yet knew he not what angel came
To make the rushing fire-flood seem
Like summer breeze by woodland stream.
He knew not, but there are who know:
The Matron, who alone hath stood,
When not a prop seemed left below,
The first lorn hour of widowhood,
Yet cheered and cheering all, the while,
With sad but unaffected smile; -
The Father, who his vigil keeps
By the sad couch whence hope hath flown,
Watching the eye where reason sleeps,
Yet in his heart can mercy own,
Still sweetly yielding to the rod,
Still loving man, still thanking GOD; -
The Christian Pastor, bowed to earth
With thankless toil, and vile esteemed,
Still travailing in second birth
Of souls that will not be redeemed:
Yet stedfast set to do his part,
And fearing most his own vain heart; -
These know: on these look long and well,
Cleansing thy sight by prayer and faith,
And thou shalt know what secret spell
Preserves them in their living death:
Through sevenfold flames thine eye shall see
The Saviour walking with His faithful Three.
poem by John Keble
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He Is Alive!
Though they called me Doubting Thomas,
I know Lord Jesus lives!
I know Lord Jesus died for us
And, through Him, God forgives!
The Lamb of God was sacrificed,
God's utmost love to show...
I tell you, Jesus is the Christ,
For this truth you must know...
While some were there when Jesus died,
As witnesses on Earth,
In Heaven, Christ is glorified,
God's angels know His worth...
They magnify His Holy Name
With praises evermore,
For life will never be the same
For Mankind, to be sure...
In truth, He is alive! Amen!
God's Holy King and Priest,
Returning soon, we know not when,
Like lightning, west-to-east!
His miracles are with us here
To help to save the Jews,
So hearts and minds are crystal clear,
Believing God's Good News!
What wondrous grace, love undeserved,
No pardon could we buy,
Yet from His Tomb, Christ was unearthed,
With power from on high!
What greater proof of love than this?
Forgiveness here and now...
Eternal Life! Eternal bliss!
No wonder angels bow!
The Gentiles, too, are grafted in,
United in God's Tree,
Such that God pardons every sin
Because of Calvary!
The sinless Saviour paid the price
That none on Earth could pay,
His Blood should make us all think twice,
For all have gone astray...
He is alive! Amen! Sweet Lord!
The prophecies outlined
What never should have been ignored,
If wisdom we would find...
Messiah! Thank You! Yes, indeed!
Your courage means so much...
Life offered in the Blood You bleed,
Love in Your healing touch...
From age-to-age, Christ's truths bring hope,
To both the young and old,
To strengthen us, to help us cope,
As sheep within His fold...
For we are His and not our own,
He makes us all complete...
Good Shepherd, lead us to God's Throne,
His wondrous Mercy Seat...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Lights Aglow For Christmas
Light up the world for Jesus
The Lord and Saviour of mankind.
Light up the heavens for Jesus
Ancestors of similar mind.
Count not the cost of Christmas
May greetings and poetry flow,
Jesus was born in Bethlehem
We love Him, come let it show.
And light up the tree at Christmas
The season our Saviour was born.
Remember the birth of Jesus Christ
Each Christmas Day in the morn.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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What Think Ye Of Christ?
What think you of Christ? is the test
To try both your state and your scheme;
You cannot be right in the rest,
Unless you think rightly of him.
As Jesus appears in your view,
As he is beloved or not;
So God is disposed to you,
And mercy or wrath are your lot.
Some take him a creature to be,
A man, or an angel at most;
Sure these have not feelings like me,
Nor know themselves wretched and lost:
So guilty, so helpless, am I,
I durst not confide in his blood,
Nor on his protection rely,
Unless I were sure he is God.
Some call him a Saviour, in word,
But mix their own works with his plan;
And hope he his help will afford,
When they have done all that they can:
If doings prove rather too light
(A little, they own, they may fail)
They purpose to make up full weight,
By casting his name in the scale.
Some style him the pearl of great price,
And say he's the fountain of joys;
Yet feed upon folly and vice,
And cleave to the world and its toys:
Like Judas, the Saviour they kiss,
And, while they salute him, betray;
Ah! what will profession like this
Avail in his terrible day?
If asked what of Jesus I think?
Though still my best thoughts are but poor;
I say, he's my meat and my drink,
My life, and my strength, and my store,
My Shepherd, my Husband, my Friend,
My Saviour from sin and from thrall;
My hope from beginning to end,
My Portion, my Lord, and my All.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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We Hail Thee Now, O Jesus
We hail thee now, O Jesus,
thy presence here we own,
though sight and touch have failed us,
and faith perceives alone;
thy love has veiled thy glory;
and hid thy power divine,
in mercy to our weakness,
beneath an earthly sign.
We hail thee now, O Jesus,
in silence hast thou come,
for all the hosts of heaven
with wonderment are dumb:
so great the condescension,
so marvelous the love,
which for our sakes, O Savior,
have drawn thee from above.
We hail thee now, O Jesus,
for law and type have ceased,
and thou in each Communion
art Sacrifice and Priest;
we make this great memorial
in union, Lord, with thee,
and plead thy death and passion
to cleanse and set us free.
We hail thee now, O Jesus,
for death is drawing near,
and in thy presence only
its terrors disappear;
dwell with us, sweetest Savior,
and guide us through the night,
till shadows end in glory,
and faith be lost in sight.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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A Christmas Carol
TUNE--'God rest ye, merry gentleman.'
GOD rest ye, merry gentlemen; let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.
The dawn rose red o'er Bethlehem, the stars shone through the gray,
When Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.
God rest ye, little children; let nothing you affright,
For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this happy night;
Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks sleeping lay,
When Christ, the Child of Nazareth, was born on Christmas-day.
God rest ye, all good Christians; upon this blessed morn
The Lord of all good Christians was of a woman born:
Now all your sorrows He doth heal, your sins He takes away;
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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