Ode for an Agricultural Celebration
Far back in the ages,
The plough with wreaths was crowned;
The hands of kings and sages
Entwined the chaplet round;
Till men of spoil disdained the toil
By which the world was nourished,
And dews of blood enriched the soil
Where green their laurels flourished:
--Now the world her fault repairs--
The guilt that stains her story;
And weeps her crimes amid the cares
That formed her earliest glory.
The proud throne shall crumble,
The diadem shall wane,
The tribes of earth shall humble
The pride of those who reign;
And War shall lay his pomp away;--
The fame that heroes cherish,
The glory earned in deadly fray
Shall fade, decay, and perish.
Honour waits, o'er all the Earth,
Through endless generations,
The art that calls her harvests forth,
And feeds the expectant nations.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Napoleon's Farewell (From The French)
I.
Farewell to the Land where the gloom of my Glory
Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her name--
She abandons me now--but the page of her story,
The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame.
I have warr'd with a world which vanquish'd me only
When the meteor of conquest allured me too far;
I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely,
The last single Captive to millions in war.
II.
Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown'd me,
I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,
But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee,
Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth.
Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted
In strife with the storm, when their battles were won
Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was lasted,
Had still soar'd with eyes fix'd on victory's sun!
III.
Farewell to thee, France!--but when Liberty rallies
Once more in thy regions, remember me then,
The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys;
Though wither'd, thy tear will unfold it
Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us,
And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice
There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us,
Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice!
Jesus Generation
Let the Earth rejoice
See the risen King
On the clouds of praise
He's exalted forever
We will rise with Him
Son of righteousness
And the Earth will shake
In the glory of heaven
Chorus:
See the heavens open wide
And His glory like a flood
Fill the earth with salvation
See the nations take His hand
And in righteousness, they stand
This is Jesus generation
2nd verse
Chorus
Glory, glory, glory, Emmanuel, God is with us (till the end)
song performed by by Hillsong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Independence Ode
Columbia, fair queen in your glory!
Columbia, the pride of the earth!
We crown you with song- wreath and story;
We honour the day of your birth!
The wrath of a king and his minions
You braved, to be free, on that day;
And the eagle sailed up on strong pinions,
And frightened the lion at bay.
Since the chains and the shackles are broken,
And citizens now replace slaves,
Since the hearts of your heros have spoken
How dear they held freedom - by graves.
Your beautiful banner is blotless
As it floats to the breezes unfurled,
And but for one blemish, all spotless
Is the record you show to the world.
Like a scar on the features of beauty,
Lies Utah, sin-cursed to the west.
Columbia! Columbia! your duty
Is to wipe out that stain with the rest!
Not only in freedom, and science,
And letters, should you lead the earth;
But let the earth learn your reliance
In honour and true moral worth.
When Liberty's torch shall be lighted,
Let her brightest most far-reaching rays
Discover no wrong thats unrighted -
Go challenge the jealous world's gaze!
Columbia, your star is ascending!
Columbia, all lands own your sway!
May your reign be as proud and unrending
As your glory is brilliant today.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Angels From the Realms of Glory
1. Angels from the realms of glory,
Wing your flight over all the earth;
Ye who sang creation's story
Now proclaim the Messiah's birth.
Chorus
Come and worship, come and worship
Worship Christ, the newborn King.
2. Shepherds, in the field abiding,
Watching over your flocks by night,
God with us is now residing;1
Yonder shines the infant light: Chorus
3. Sages, leave your contemplations,
Brighter visions beam afar;
Seek the great Desire of nations;
Ye have seen His natal star. Chorus
4. Saints, before the altar bending,
Watching long in hope and fear;
Suddenly the Lord, descending,
In His temple shall appear. Chorus
5. Sinners, wrung with true repentance,
Doomed for guilt to endless pains,
Justice now revokes the sentence,
Mercy calls you, break your chains. Chorus
6.2 Though an infant now we view Him,
He shall fill His Father's throne,
Gather all nations to Him;
Every knee shall then bow down: Chorus
These next verses are later additions, not written by Montgomery:
7.3 Lord of Heaven, we adore Thee,
God the Father, God the Son,
God the Spirit, One in glory,
On the same eternal throne. Chorus
8.4 All creation, join in praising
God, the Father, Spirit, Son,
Evermore your voices raising
To the eternal Three in One. Chorus
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lord Reigns
The Lord Reigns from on High, upon His throne above the sky,
And from His throne in majesty, He rules the world that we see.
He ruled the world in ages past, with a rule that will forever last.
For Christ will reign for Eternity, as all nations on earth will see.
His uplifted hand still is raised, though by all, He is not praised.
When His Wrath begins to flow, every nation on earth will know,
That Christ is the sustainer of, everything in the heavens above,
And of all upon the earth below, everything we’ve come to know.
One thing you can not dismiss, that He reigns in Righteousness,
Indeed, Holiness is found in Him, that reigns above all earthly sin.
When He reigns upon the earth, all sin and iniquity will be purged.
At that time His righteous decree, will cover earth from sea to sea.
Today Christ reigns in the heart, of every believer who’s set apart,
Set apart by The Lord above, cleansed from sin and filled with love.
Today we reign in Christ’s Spirit, sharing Truth with all who hear it,
Knowing when Christ does come, we will reign with God’s own Son.
You can also reign with Christ, and receive from Him Eternal Life,
If you receive Him in your heart, you, in His Reign, will have a part.
If you choose to dismiss The Lord, you, by Jesus, won’t be ignored,
And from His Reign of Righteousness, you will surely be dismissed.
(Copyright ©09/2005)
Australia
Earth's mightiest isle. She stands alone.
The wide seas wash around Her throne,
Crowned by the red sun as his own.
This is the last of all the lands
Where Freedom’s fray-torn banner stands,
Not wrested yet from freemen’s hands.
The world’s gray page lies bare to-day—
The rise of nations—the decay.
Will She, too, rise—and fall as they?
She called men to Her, and they came,
Whose deaths have given the Desert name.
Their fame is written with Her fame.
We toil and strive. We have our hour.
But She shall grow from power to power,
To wear the splendour of her dower.
The trust is ours—to us alone.
We are the strong foundation-stone,
The seed from which the flower is grown.
And whilst a realm in fee we hold,
To guard the New against the Old,
Nor take the glitter for the gold,
What shall it profit Her if we
Make gold our God, and strength our plea,
And call wild license Liberty?
If, in our scorn of creed and king,
All reverence to the winds we fling,
And fall before a baser thing?
Though in Her coming hour of pride
Her millions throng the Desert wide,
Her cities stud the water side?
What though Her sword unconquered be,
Her armoured navies sweep the sea,
If still Her people are not free?
To be the wave of thought indeed
From New World vaunt and Old World need,
To manlier day and mightier deed?
To be a people proved and strong—
True freemen of the Poet’s song
For whom the world has waited long?
poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fort Wagner
I.Glory unto the gallant boys who stood
At Wagner, and, unflinching, sought the van;
Dealing fierce blows, and shedding precious blood,
For homes as precious, and dear rights of man!
They've won the meed, and they shall have the glory;--
Song, with melodious memories, shall repeat
The legend, which shall grow to themes for story,
Told through long ages, and forever sweet!
II.
High honor to our youth--our sons and brothers,
Georgians and Carolinians, where they stand!
They will not shame their birthrights, or their mothers,
But keep, through storm, the bulwarks of the land!
They feel that they _must_ conquer! Not to do it,
Were worse than death--perdition! Should they fail,
The innocent races yet unborn shall rue it,
The whole world feel the wound, and nations wail!
III.
No! They must conquer in the breach or perish!
Assured, in the last consciousness of breath,
That love shall deck their graves, and memory cherish
Their deeds, with honors that shall sweeten death!
They shall have trophies in long future hours,
And loving recollections, which shall be
Green, as the summer leaves, and fresh as flowers,
That, through all seasons, bloom eternally!
IV.
Their memories shall be monuments, to rise
Next those of mightiest martyrs of the past;
Beacons, when angry tempests sweep the skies,
And feeble souls bend crouching to the blast!
A shrine for thee, young Cheves, well devoted,
Most worthy of a great, illustrious sire;--
A niche for thee, young Haskell, nobly noted,
When skies and seas around thee shook with fire!
V.
And others as well chronicled shall be!
What though they fell with unrecorded name--
They live among the archives of the free,
With proudest title to undying fame!
The unchisell'd marble under which they sleep,
Shall tell of heroes, fearless still of fate;
Not asking if their memories shall keep,
But if they nobly served, and saved, the State!
VI.
For thee, young Fortress Wagner--thou shalt wear
Green laurels, worthy of the names that now,
Thy sister forts of Moultrie, Sumter, bear!
See that thou lift'st, for aye, as proud a brow!
And thou shalt be, to future generations,
A trophied monument; whither men shall come
In homage; and report to distant nations,
A SHRINE, which foes shall never make a TOMB!
poem by William Gilmore Simms
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crecy
August 26: 1346
At Crecy by Somme in Ponthieu
High up on a windy hill
A mill stands out like a tower;
King Edward stands on the mill.
The plain is seething below
As Vesuvius seethes with flame,
But O! not with fire, but gore,
Earth incarnadined o'er,
Crimson with shame and with fame!--
To the King run the messengers, crying
'Thy Son is hard-press'd to the dying!'
--'Let alone: for to-day will be written in story
To the great world's end, and for ever:
So let the boy have the glory.'
Erin and Gwalia there
With England are one against France;
Outfacing the oriflamme red
The red dragons of Merlin advance:--
As harvest in autumn renew'd
The lances bend o'er the fields;
Snow-thick our arrow-heads white
Level the foe as they light;
Knighthood to yeomanry yields:--
Proud heart, the King watches, as higher
Goes the blaze of the battle, and nigher:--
'To-day is a day will be written in story
To the great world's end, and for ever!
Let the boy alone have the glory.'
Harold at Senlac-on-Sea
By Norman arrow laid low,--
When the shield-wall was breach'd by the shaft,
--Thou art avenged by the bow!
Chivalry! name of romance!
Thou art henceforth but a name!
Weapon that none can withstand,
Yew in the Englishman's hand,
Flight-shaft unerring in aim!
As a lightning-struck forest the foemen
Shiver down to the stroke of the bowmen:--
--'O to-day is a day will be written in story
To the great world's end, and for ever!
So, let the boy have the glory.'
Pride of Liguria's shore
Genoa wrestles in vain;
Vainly Bohemia's King
Kinglike is laid with the slain.
The Blood-lake is wiped-out in blood,
The shame of the centuries o'er;
Where the pride of the Norman had sway
The lions lord over the fray,
The legions of France are no more:--
--The Prince to his father kneels lowly;
--'His is the battle! his wholly!
For to-day is a day will be written in story
To the great world's end, and for ever:--
So, let him have the spurs, and the glory!'
poem by Francis Turner Palgrave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Passionate Time
With such time of passion, we tread and bury
The crowned queens so quarrelling with kings of nations.
Their wondering heads wear those fitting decorations,
Round their skulls of glory.
Our hearts light with fervour, and glory utters a sound,
Unstable are the hearts of blood and gore, to make noise.
Round their skulls is sheer glory.
At the feet of the princesses are lots of tiny queens,
Just princes work with sad eyes to distribute effort.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Song For Peace And Honour
TO THE QUEEN
LADY and Queen, for whom our laurels twine,
Upon whose head the glories of our land
In one immortal diadem are met,
Embodied England, in whose woman-hand
The sceptre of Imperial sway is set,
Receive this song of mine!
For you are England, and her bays grow green
To deck your brow, your goodness lends her grace,
And in our hearts your face is as Her face;
The Mother-Country is the Mother-Queen.
We, men of England, children of her might,
With all our Mother's record-roll of glory,
Great with her greatness, noble by her name,
Drank with our mothers' milk our Mother's story,
And in our veins the splendour of her fame
Made strong our blood and bright;
And to her absent sons her name has been
Familiar music heard in distant lands,
Heart of our heart and sinews of our hands,
England, our Mother, our Mistress and our Queen!
Out of the thunderous echoes of the past
Through the gold-dust of centuries we hear
Her voice, 'O children of a royal line,
Sons of her heart, whom England holdeth dear,
Mine was the Past--make ye the future mine
All glorious to the last!'
And, as we hear her, cowards grow to men,
And men to heroes, and the voice of fear
Is as a whisper in a deaf man's ear,
And the dead past is quick in us again.
Her robe is woven of glory and renown,
Hers are the golden-laden Argosies,
And lordship of the wild and watery ways,
Her flag is blown across the utmost seas:
Dead nations built her throne, and kingdoms blaze
For jewels in her crown.
Her Empire like a girdle doth enfold
The world; her feet upon her foes are set;
She wears the steel-wrought, blood-bright amulet
Won by her children in the days of old.
Yet in a treasury of such gems as these
Which power and sovereignty and kingship fill
To the vast limit of the circling sun,
England, our Mother, in her heart holds still,
As her most precious jewel, save only one,
The priceless pearl of peace--
Peace plucked from out the very heart of war
Through the long agony of strenuous years,
Made pure by blood and sanctified by tears,
A pearl to lie where England's treasures are.
O peaceful English lanes all white with may,
O English meadows where the grass grows tall,
O red-roofed village, field and farm and fold
Where the long shadows of the elm-trees fall
On the wide pastures which the sun calls gold
And twilit dew calls gray;--
These are the home, the happy cradle-place
Of every man who has our English tongue,
Sprung from those loins from which our sires have sprung,
Heirs of the glory of our mighty race!
Brothers, we hold the pearl of priceless worth:
Shall Peace, our pearl, by us be cast aside?
Is it not more to us than all things are?
Nay, Peace is precious as the world is wide,
But England's honour is more precious far
Than all the heavens and earth.
Were honour outcast from her supreme place
Our pearl of Peace no more a pearl would shine,
But, trampled under-foot of cowards and swine,
Rot in the mire of a deserved disgrace.
Know then, O ye our brothers over sea,
We will not cast our pearl of Peace away,
But, holding it, we wait; and if, at last,
The whole world came against us in array,
If all our glory into darkness passed,
Our Empire ceased to be,
Yet should we still have chosen the better part
Though in the dust our kingdoms were cast down,
Though lost were every jewel in our crown
We still should wear our jewel in our heart.
So, for our Mother's honour, if it must
Let Peace be lost, but lost the worthier way;
Not trampled down, but given, for her sake
Who forged of many an iron yesterday
The golden song that gold-tongued fame shall wake
When we are dust, in dust:
For brotherhood and strife and praise and blame
And all the world, even to our very land,
Weighed in the balance, are as a grain of sand
Against the honour of our English name!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Finnigan's Finish
They thought I'd be a champion;
They boasted loud of me.
A dozen victories I'd won,
The Press was proud of me.
I saw myself with glory crowned,
And would, beyond a doubt,
Till last night in the second round
A Dago knocked me out.
It must have been an accident;
I cannot understand.
For I was so damn confident
I'd lick him with one hand.
I bounded in the ring to cheers;
I panted for the fray:
Ten minutes more with hoots and jeers
They bore me limp away.
I will not have the nerve to face
The sporting mob today;
The doll I fell for--my disgrace
Will feel and fade away.
Last night upon the brink of fame
No favour did I lack:
Tomorrow from the sink of shame
I'll beg my old job back.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Justice
October, 1918
Across a world where all men grieve
And grieving strive the more,
The great days range like tides and leave
Our dead on every shore.
Heavy the load we undergo,
And our own hands prepare,
If we have parley with the foe,
The load our sons must bear.
Before we loose the word
That bids new worlds to birth,
Needs must we loosen first the sword
Of Justice upon earth;
Or else all else is vain
Since life on earth began,
And the spent world sinks back again
Hopeless of God and Man.
A People and their King
Through ancient sin grown strong,
Because they feared no reckoning
Would set no bound to wrong;
But now their hour is past,
And we who bore it find
Evil Incarnate hell at last
To answer to mankind.
For agony and spoil
Of nations beat to dust,
For poisoned air and tortured soil
And cold, commanded lust,
And every secret woe
The shuddering waters saw.
Willed and fulfilled by high and low.
Let them relearn the Low.
That when the dooms are read,
Not high nor low shall say:--
" My haughty or my humble head
Was saved me in this day."
That, till the end of time,
Their remnant shall recall
Their fathers old, confederate crime
Availed them not at all.
That neither schools nor priests,
Nor Kings may build again
A people with the heart of beasts
Made wise concerning men.
Whereby our dead shall sleep
In honour, unbetrayed,
And we in faith and honour keep
That peace for which they paid.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 90 part 1
v.1-5
C. M.
Man frail, and God eternal.
Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.
Under the shadow of thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure.
Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,
To endless years the same.
Thy word commands our flesh to dust,
"Return, ye sons of men:"
All nations rose from earth at first,
And turn to earth again.
A thousand ages in thy sight
Are like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.
[The busy tribes of flesh and blood,
With all their lives and cares,
Are carried downwards by the flood,
And lost in following years.
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the op'ning day.
Like flowery fields the nations stand
Pleased with the morning light;
The flowers beneath the mower's hand
Lie with'ring ere 'tis night.]
Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Be thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Anzac Square: What The Digger Said
Said the Digger: 'Soon forgot! Soon forgot, the deeds of war.
Better so, may be. . . Why not?
Beauty fades and laurels rot;
Last year's roses are no more.
Fame?' the one-armed Digger said,
'What of glory when you're dead?'
'Stone and brass,' the Digger said. 'Stone and brass: tho' these endure,
Marble flaunting o'er my head
Would be dead, as I'd be dead.
How may any man be sure
That the hearts of men shall hold
Memories of tales once told?
This alone I surely know: earth I am, and earth shall be,
Only Mother Earth can show,
When I go where all men go,
Aught of this that had been me.
Mother Earth, once stained so red,
She must know,' the Digger said.
'Would you raise, in braggart heaps, stone, cold stone, to mark the fame
Of full many a man who sleeps
Where the earth of Anzac keeps
Guard o'er legions lacking name
Plinth and pillar reared to show
Pomp and pride they cannot know?
'They ask no portentous pile, boasting to a heedless sky,
Stirring men a little while,
Subject, then, for sigh or smile,
Not for this do soldiers die,
With our passing let Pride be,
All we ask is Memory:
'Memory of such fair worth as a fighting man may claim,
And a plot of hallowed earth
In the city of our birth:
Earth that bears a hallowed name.
Let it be envisioned there:
Anzac worth in Anzac Square.
'Memory,' the Digger said. 'If so be the city judge
Soldiers worthy, who have bled.
Worthy of her love, the dead,
Shall the city, then, begrudge
One wide acre of her soil
For who saved the whole from spoil?
'Here, it may be, by God's grace, our son's sons may sit at last,
In the People's market place,
Knowing truly, as they trace
Memory of me long past,
'Tis enshrined forever there:
Anzac worth in Anzac Square.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Pride That Comes After
It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of groans and laughter,
It sneers of pride before a fall,
But the bitter pride comes after:
So leave me and I’ll seek you not,
So seek me and you’ll find me—
But till I know your hand-grip’s true
I’ll stand with hands behind me.
It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of lies and sorrow—
It prates of pride before a fall,
And of the humble morrow;
But shame and blame are but a name,
Oh, heart that’s hurt past curing!
We’ll drink to-night the sinner’s pride,
The pride that’s most enduring.
They know it all, they know it all,
The curs that pass the sentence.
They preach of pride before a fall
And bitter black repentance:
So leave me when my star is set,
I’ll glory that you leave me,
While one has pride to love me yet
There’s nought on earth shall grieve me.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Waterloo Day
THIS is the day of our glory; this is our day to weep.
Under her dusty laurels England stirs in her sleep;
Dreams of her days of honour, terrible days that are dead,
Days of the making of story, days when the sword was red,
When all her fate and her future hung on the naked blade,
When by the sword of her children her place in the world was made,
When Honour sounded the trumpet and Valour leapt to obey,
And Heroes bought us the Empire that statesmen would sell to-day.
England, wanton and weary, sunk in a slothful ease,
Has slain in her wars her thousands, but her tens of thousands in peace:
And the cowards grieve for her glory; their glory is in their shame;
They are glad of the moth in her banners, and the rust on her shining name.
Oh, if the gods would send us a balm for our sick, sad years,
Let them send us a sight of the scarlet, and the sound of the guns in our ears!
For valour and faith and honour--these grow where the red flower grows,
And the leaves for the Nation's healing must spring from the blood of her foes.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wings Of Destiny
Do you remember the days
when living was meant to be free
not looking for fortune
not looking for fame
the beauty of life was the key
We lived as one to conquer the world
a thousand dreams to come true
we knew in the end we'll find
the meaning of life and the truth
So proud and full of passion
we formed a better world
we fought against opression
and winsdom was our sword
On the path of glory
we searched the rainbow's end
lives meant to share
where's the sign that we'd sent?
On the sad wings of destiny
we're kings without a throne
if you believe in unity
believe 'cause you're not alone
sad wings of destiny
the haunting thoughts of pain
the world's a patient
song performed by by Gamma Ray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Flee Babylon
The Lord our God, He lights our path
In the way that we must go
And the world is tossed by every wave
The wind it blows it to and fro
Stand up, stand up for Jesus
That is our clarion call
As the world begins to crumble
And the walls begin to fall
Why should we fear the darkness?
Why should we fear the light?
Wake up ye sleepy Christians
It's time to stand and fight
We bear the armor of the Lord
Let's step into the fray
Come now and fight while there's still light
And walk while its yet day
For fast the night approaches
With murder in its hand
The gates of hell have come to see
That we no longer stand
And even though they spill our blood
And victory they will hail
And all around be darkness
The gates shall not prevail
For Christ in all His glory
Will come and fill the sky
You'll hear the trumpet blowing
You'll hear the angel cry
Behold the King of glory
He's in His battle dress
And every knee on earth shall bow
And every tongue confess
Tha Jesus Christ is Lord of Lords
And He is King of kings
All glory to Emmanuel
Is what the angel sings
poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dead
These there were, who lost their everything.
Gave all! And left the earth a vaster sphere
In memories: a song or two to sing,
Some takes to tell, some thoughts to think,
more near
To humanness by death, and blood of death
Than life itself, which in the passing hence
Enriched the world with an awakened breath,
And fled no longer nameless form the sense.
‘Twas not the shed of blood, but fearless mirth
that set a wondrous pattern to the earth.
And these,, - within a corner that is theirs,
Are laid in smiling peace – a rich content.
The pain has been – the glory is. Old cares
Have dropped, and left no drooping wonder –
ment.
poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Story of Our Savior
The story of our Savior from above, begins with the Father’s Love,
Who sent His only Eternal Son, to become the Savior of everyone.
God sent Him to a world condemned, in the likeness of sinful men,
However, Christ was a sinless man, sent to be God’s perfect Lamb.
Although Christ was born on earth; He lived before that virgin birth,
He’s the Alpha and Omega, friend, and the Beginning and the End.
Christ formed this earth as Creator, then came down as our Savior,
So a body God prepared for Him, and He would die for all our sin.
Coming as that baby so small, yet, He was Lord and King over all,
King over Israel and every nation, sent with The Father’s Salvation.
Many Scriptures, God would fulfill, with Christ, as King over Israel,
To the Gentiles, He’d be the Light, to guide them out of their night.
That little infant born in Bethlehem, would be the Savior of all men,
Coming to reign on David’s Throne, to reign as King over His own.
And being God’s last Revelation, to tiny Israel and to every nation,
With a message of hope to herald, of redemption for all the world.
The story shall end in Eternity, in a place prepared for you and me,
The same Eternity of the past; one of no beginning, to forever last,
As in the clouds we’ll join together, to be with Jesus Christ forever,
When we gather to continue a story, that shall continue on in Glory.