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A book for Boys and Girls by John Bunyan click here

A Short and Easy Method of Prayer by Madame Guyon click here

A Caution to Stir up to Watch Against Sin by John Bunyan click here

Christ Altogether Lovely by John Flavel click here

One Thing is Needfull by John Bunyan click here
(Serious Meditations upon the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven, & Hell)

Poems by Madame Guyon click here (pdf file)

Prayer - Little Folded Hands by anonymous click here

Scriptural Poems by John Bunyan click here

The House of God by John bunyan click here
(The Building, Nature, Excellency, and Government)

The Hymns of Martin Luther by Martin Luther click here

The Smell of Rain click here

The heavenly treasure now we have
In a vile house of clay!
Yet He shall to the utmost save,
And keep it to that day.

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While thus we bestow Our moments below, Ourselves we forsake, And refuge in Jesus's righteousness take. His passion alone, The foundation we own; And pardon we claim, And eternal redemption in Jesus's name.

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"Soon we go from grace to glory,
God's own hand shall lead us there;
Soon shall we rehearse the story
Of his gracious dealings here.

"Soon will end our earthly mission,
Soon will pass our pilgrim days,
Hope give place to full fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise."

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THE REVIVAL HYMN
Revive Thy work, 0 Lord!
And manifest Thy power;
Oh, come upon Thy Church, and give
A penitential shower!

Revive Thy work, O Lord!
Come now and answer prayer;
Oh, come in Holy Spirit power,
And save men everywhere!

Revive Thy work, O Lord!
And every soul inspire;
Oh, kindle in each heart, we pray,
The pentecostal fire!

Revive Thy work, O Lord!
And give abounding joy;
Oh, fill our hearts with perfect love;
And burn out all alloy!

Revive Thy work, 0 Lord!
And make Thy servants bold;
Convict of sin, and work once more
As in the days of old.

Revive Thy work, O Lord!
Fulfill Thy promise true;
Let Jesus Christ be glorified,
And great things for us do.

by Oswald J. Smith

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Not all the blood of beasts
On Jewish altars slain
Could give the guilty conscience peace,
Or wash away the stain.
But Christ, the heavenly Lamb
Takes all our sins away,
A sacrifice of nobler name
And richer blood than they

From whence this fear and unbelief?
Hath not the Father put to grief
His spotless Son for me?
And will the righteous Judge of men
Condemn me for that debt of sin
Which, Lord! was charged on Thee?
Complete atonement thou hast made,
And to the utmost farthing paid,
Whate'er Thy people owed;
How then can wrath on me take place,

If sheltered in Thy righteousness,
And sprinkled with Thy blood?
If Thou hast my discharge procured,
And freely in my room, endured
The whole of wrath Divine;
Payment cannot twice demand---
First, at my bleeding surety's hand,
And then again at mine.
Turn then, my soul, unto thy rest!
The merits of thy great High Priest
Have bought thy liberty;
Trust in His efficacious blood,
Nor fear thy banishment from God,
Since Jesus died for thee.

When the Atonement story first began
A lamb was sacrificed for every MAN.
And then when Israel was in Pharaoh's land,
This sacrifice could for a HOUSEHOLD stand.
Later, a Lamb at the Atonement feast
Was offered for the NATION by the priest.
But last, on Calvary's Hill, the Lamb of God
Shed for a sinning world His precious Blood.
A Lamb before the world's foundation slain,
And in the farthest future just the same!
For in the Revelation we are shown
A Lamb, "that had been slain," amidst the Throne.
"A Lamb," the pivot of earth's history ---
God's great, impenetrable mystery.
"Thou has redeemed us by Thy precious Blood,
"And made us kings and priests unto our God."
"Worthy is the Lamb that once was slain" will be
Our theme of praise throughout eternity.

The blood of God outpoured upon the tree!
So reads the Book. O mind, receive the thought,
Nor helpless murmur thou hast vainly sought
Thought-room within thee for such mystery.
Thou foolish mindling! Do'st thou hope to see
Undazed, untottering, all that God hath wrought?
Before His mighty "shall," thy little "ought"

Be shamed to silence and humility!
Come mindling, I will show thee what 'twere meet
That thou shouldst shrink from marvelling, and flee
As unbelievable, --- nay, wonderingly,
With dazed, but still with faithful praises, greet:
Draw near and listen to this sweetest sweet, ---
Thy God, O mindling, shed His blood for thee!

Stretched on the cross, the Saviour dies,
Hark! His expiring groans arise!
See from His hands, His feet, His side,
Runs down the sacred crimson tide!
But life attends the deathful sound,
And flows from every bleeding wound;
The vital stream, how free it flows,
To save and cleanse His rebel foes!

Dear dying Lamb! Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved to sin no more

Here, O my Lord, I see Thee face to face;
Here would I touch and handle things unseen,
Here grasp with firmer hand the eternal grace,
And all my weariness upon Thee lean.
Here would I feed upon the bread of God,
Here drink with Thee the royal wine of Heaven;
Here would I lay aside each earthly load,
Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.
Mine is the sin, but Thine is the righteousness;
Mine is the guilt, but Thine the cleansing blood;
Here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace ---
Thy blood, Thy righteousness, O Lord my God.

The King there in His beauty,
Without a veil, is seen:
It were a well-spent journey,
Though seven deaths lay between;
The Lamb, with His fair army,
Doth on Mount Zion stand;
And glory --- glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.
The bride eyes not her garment,
But her dear Bridegroom's face;
I will not gaze on glory,
But on my King of Grace ---
Not at the crown He gifteth,
But on his pierced hand;
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Immanuel's land.

Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress;
Midst flaming worlds in these arrayed,
With joy shall I lift up my head.
This spotless robe the same appears
When ruin'd nature sinks in years;
No age can change its glorious hue,
The robe of Christ is ever new.

The blood has always precious been
'Tis precious now to me;
Through it alone my soul has rest,
From fear and doubt set free.
O wondrous is the crimson tide,
Which from my Saviour flowed!
And still in heaven my song shall be
'The precious, precious blood!'

Sing, O ye sinners bought with blood,
Hail the great Three in One!
Tell how secure the covenant stood
Ere time its race begun.
Ne'er had ye felt the guilt of sin,
Nor sweets of pardoning love,
Unless your worthless names had been
Enroll'd to life above.
O what a sweet exalted song
Shall rend the vaulted skies,
When shouting grace, the blood-wash'd throng
Shall see the Top Stone rise.

He dies! the Friend of sinners dies!
Lo! Salem's daughters weep around!
A solemn darkness veils the skies,
A sudden trembling shakes the ground:
Come, saints, and with your tears bedew
The Sufferer, bruised beneath your load;
He poured out cries and tears for you,
He shed for you His precious blood.
Here's love and grief beyond degree:
The Lord of Glory dies for man!
But lo! what sudden joys I see:
Jesus, the dead, revives again!
The rising God forsakes the tomb;
The tomb in vain forbids His rise!
Cherubic legions guard Him home,
And shout Him welcome to the skies!
Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell
How high your great Deliverer reigns;
Sing how He spoiled the hosts of hell,
And led the monster death in chains.
Say, Live for ever, wondrous King!
Born to redeem, and strong to save!
Then ask the monster, Where's thy sting?
And, Where's thy victory, boasting grave?

What sacred fountain yonder springs
Up from the throne of God,
And all new covenant blessings brings?
'Tis Jesus' precious blood.
What mighty sum paid all my debt
When I a bondman stood,
And has my soul at freedom set?
'This Jesus' precious blood.
What stream is that which sweeps away
My sins just like a flood,
Nor lets one guilty blemish stay?
'This Jesus' precious blood.
What voice is that which speaks for me
In heaven's high court for good,
And from the curse has made me free?
'This Jesus' precious blood.
What theme, my soul, shall best employ
Thy harp before thy God,
And made all heaven to ring with joy?
'This Jesus' precious blood

Lo! He cometh! countless trumpets
Blow to raise the sleeping dead;
'Midst ten thousand saints and angels
See their great exalted Head.
Hallelujah!
Let the welcome summons spread!
Sow console our waiting spirit,
Hasten, Lord, the general doom!
And to dwell in heavenly mansions
Take Thy longing exiles home;
All creation
Travails, groans, and bids Thee come.

I do not know how Bethlehem's Babe
Could in the Godhead be;
I only know the manger Child
Has brought God's life to me.

Dearest of all the names above,
My Jesus, and my God,
Who can resist Thy heavenly love,
Or trifle with Thy blood?
'Tis by the merits of Thy death
The Father smiles again;
'Tis by Thine interceding breath
The Spirit dwells with men.
Till God in human flesh I see,
My thoughts no comfort find;
The Holy, Just, and Sacred Three
Are terrors to my mind.
But if Emmanuel's face appear,
My hope, my joy begins;
His name forbids my slavish fear,
His grace removes my sins.
While Jews on their own law rely,
And Greeks of wisdom boast,
I love the incarnate mystery,
And there I fix my trut.

HYMN.
Oh, eyes that are weary,
And hearts that are sore,
Look off unto Jesus,
And sorrow no more!
The light of His countenance
Shineth so bright,
That on earth, as in heaven,
There need be no night.
Looking off unto Jesus
My eyes cannot see
The troubles and dangers
That throng around me.
They cannot be blinded
With sorrowful tears.
They cannot be shadowed
With unbelief-fears.
Looking off unto Jesus.
My spirit is blest,—
In the world I have turmoil,
In Him I have rest.
The sea of my life
All about me may roar—
When I look unto Jesus
I hear it no more.
Looking off unto Jesus,
I go not astray;
My eyes are on Him.
And He shows me the way.
'The path may seem dark
As He leads me along,
But following Jesus
I cannot go wrong.
Looking off unto Jesus,
My heart cannot fear:
its trembling is still
When I see Jesus near:
I know that His power
My safeguard will be.
For, "Why are ye troubled?"
He saith unto me.
Looking off unto Jesus,
Oh, may I be found,
When the waters of Jordan
Encompass me round!
Let them bear me away
In His presence to he:
'Tis but seeing him nearer
Whom always I see.
Then, then shall I know
The full beauty and grace
Of Jesus, my Lord,
When I stand face to face:
I shall know how His love
Went before me each day,
And wonder that ever
My eyes turned away.

HYMN.
I’m going to leave all my sadness,
I’m going to change earth for heaven;
There, there all is peace, all is gladness,
There pureness and glory are given.
Friends, weep not in sorrow of spirit,
But joy that my time here is o’er;
I go, the good part to inherit,
Where sorrow and sin are no more.
The shadows of evening are fleeing,
Morn breaks from the city of light;
This moment day starts into being,
Eternity bursts on my sight:
The first-born redeemed from all trouble,
The lamb that was slain in the throng,
Their ardour in praising redouble:
Breaks not on the ear the new song?
I’m going to tell their glad story,
To share in their transports of praise:
I’m going, in garments of glory,
My voice to unite with their lays.
Ye fetters corrupted, then leave me;
Thou body of sin, droop and die;
Pains of earth, cease ye ever to grieve me,
From you ?tis for ever I fly.
________________________

“ Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, flee to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace.”

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“Be not weary,” toiling Christian,
Good the Master thou dost serve;
Let no disappointment move thee,
From thy service never swerve,
Sow in hope, nor cease thy sowing,
Lack not patience, faith, or prayer.
Seed-time passeth,—harvest hasteneth,—
Precious sheaves thou then shalt bear.
“Be not weary,” praying Christian;
Open is Thy Father’s ear
To the fervent supplication,
And the agonising prayer.
Prayer the Holy Ghost begetteth,
Be it words, or groans, or tears,
Is the prayer that’s always answered:
Banish then thy doubts and fears.
“Be not weary,” suffering Christian;
Scourged is each adopted child,
Else would grow, in sad profusion,
Nature’s fruit, perverse and wild:
Chastening’s needful for the spirit,
Though ‘tis painful for the flesh,
God designs a blessing for thee ;—
Let this thought thy soul refresh.
“Be not weary,” tempted Christian,
Sin can only lure on earth;
Faith is tried by sore temptation,
‘Tis the furnace proves its worth:
Bounds are set unto the tempter,
Which beyond he cannot go;
Battle on, on God relying,
Faith will overcome the foe.
“Be not weary,” weeping Christian,
Tears endure but for the night;
Joy, deep joy, thy spirit greeting,
Will return with morning’s light.
Every tear thou shedd’st is numbered
In the register above;
Heaven is tearless, sweet the prospect:—
Sighless, tearless land of love!
“Be not weary,” hoping Christian;
Though the vision tarry long,
Hope will bring the blessing nearer,
Change thy sorrow into song;
Naught shall press thy spirit downwards
If thy hopes all brightly shine:
Hold thy hope, whate’er thou losest,—
Living, precious hopes are thine!
“Be not weary,” troubled Christian,
Rest remains for thee on high;
Dwell upon the untold glory
Of thy future home of joy:
There, nor sin, nor sorrow enters,—
There thy soul, attuned to praise,
Shall, in strains of heavenly fulness,
Songs of happy triumph raise.
“Be not weary,” loving Christian,
In this heavenly grace abound;
Jesus, well thou knowest, loved thee,
Though in mad rebellion found:
Drink, drink deeply of His spirit,—
Jesus loves both great and small;
Nature loves but what is lovely,—
Grace embraceth one and all.
Christian, thus in grace unwearied
Pass thy sojourn here below,
Spurn lukewarmness, let thy bosom
Ever with true fervour glow!
Look to Christ, thy bright exemplar,
Copy Him in all His ways,
Let thy life and conversation
Tell to thy Redeemer’s praise.

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HYMN.
For ever here my rest shall be,
Close to Thy bleeding side:
This is my hope, and all my plea,—
For me the Saviour died.
My dying Saviour and my Cod,
Fountain for guilt and sin,
Sprinkle me ever with Thy blood,
And cleanse and keep me clean.
Wash me and make me thus Thine own,
Wash me, and mine Thou art;
Wash me, hut not my feet alone,—
My hands, my head, my heart.
Th' atonement of Thy blood apply,
Till faith to sight improve;
Till hope shall end in perfect joy,
And all my soul be love.
____________________

HYMN.
TIMES are changing, days are flying,
Years are quickly past and gone,
While the wildly mingled murmur
Of life’s busy mart goes on;
Sounds of tumult, sounds of triumph,
Marriage chimes and passing-bell,
Yet through all one key-note sounding,
Angels’ watchword,—“It is well.”
We may hear it through the rushing
Of the midnight tempest’s wave;
We may hear it through the weeping
Round the newly-covered grave;
In the dreary house of mourning,
In the darkened room of pain,
If we listen meekly, rightly,
We may catch that soothing strain.
For Thine arm Thou hast not shortened,
Nor hast turned away Thine ear,
Gentle Saviour, ever ready
Thy poor suppliant’s prayer to hear:
Show us light, still surely resting
Upon all Thy darkest ways;
Give us faith, still surely trusting
Through the sad and evil days.
So ‘twill be, while years are fleeting,
Though our joys are with them gone,
In Thy changeless love rejoicing,
We shall journey calmly on;
Till at last, life’s sorrows over,
All the tale of grace we tell,
In the heavenly chorus joining,
“Lord, Thou hast done all things well.”

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HYMN.
"Come, let us join our friends above,
Who have obtained the prize,
And on the eagle-wings of love
To joys celestial rise!
"Let all the saints terrestrial sing,
With those to glory gone;
For all the servants of our King,
In earth and heaven, are one.
"The saints on earth, and those above,
But one communion make;
Joined to the Lord in bonds of love,
All of His grace partake.
"One family we dwell in Him;
One Church above, beneath;
Though now divided by the stream,
—The narrow stream of death.
"One army of the living God,
To His command we bow:
Part of His host have crossed the flood,
And part are crossing now.
" Our spirits too shall quickly join,
Like theirs with glory crown'd;
And shout to see our Captain's Sign,
To hear His trumpet sound."
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Read the motto over the door of the Gospel
Refuge: "Neither is there salvation in any other: for
there is no other NAME given under heaven by which
the sinner can be saved, but the NAME of JESUS."


Jesus, my Refuge! look on me,
When weak and weary, worn, oppressed;
I cast my every care on Thee—
You are my REST.
Jesus, my Refuge! guide my way,
Dispel the gloomy shades of night,
Oh, please shine forth with cheering ray!
You are my Light.
Jesus, my Refuge! storms may rise,
Affliction sweep with tempest-shock,
My spirit to Your shelter flies—
You are my ROCK.
Jesus, my Refuge! legion-foes
May seek to drive me from the field,
But in Your strength I shall repose—
You are my SHIELD.
Jesus, my Refuge! You in store
Have happiness without alloy,
Pleasures unmingled, evermore—
You are my JOY.
Jesus, my Refuge! on the brink
Of Jordan, in my latest strife,
You will not suffer me to sink—
You are my LIFE.
Jesus, my Refuge! oh, supply
My every want. Whatever befall;
Through life, in death, eternally,
You are my ALL!

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I sin in every breath I draw,
Nor do Thy will, nor keep Thy law
On earth, as angels do above:
But still the fountain open stands,
Washes my feet, my heart, my hands,
Till I am perfected in love.

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Oh! that I could repent,
With all my idols part,
And to Thy gracious eyes present
A humble, contrite heart.
A heart with grief oppressed,
For having grieved my God,
A troubled heart that cannot rest,
Till sprinkled with Thy blood.
Jesus, on me bestow
The penitent desire;
With true sincerity of woe
My aching breast inspire.
With softening pity look,
And melt my hardness down;
Strike with Thy love’s resistless stroke,
And break this heart of stone!
-Charles Wesley, 1749

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AWAKE, my soul, in joyful lays, And sing thy great Redeemer’s praise;
He justly claims a song from me; His loving-kindness, O how free!
He saw me ruined in the fall, Yet loved me notwithstanding all;
He saved me from my lost estate; His loving-kindness, O how great!
Though numerous hosts of mighty foes, Though earth and hell my way oppose,
He safely leads my soul along; His loving-kindness, O how strong!
Often I feel my sinful heart Prone from my Saviour to depart;
But though I have him oft forgot, His loving-kindness changes not!
Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale; Soon all my mortal powers must fail;
O may my last expiring breath His loving-kindness sing in death!
Then let me mount and soar away To the bright world of endless day,
And sing with rapture and surprise, His loving-kindness in the skies.

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"What is Life?-’tis sitting,
Jesus, at Your feet,
All things gladly quitting
For that favored seat:
Where, in sacred union,
Earth and Heaven meet!
"What is Death?-’tis springing,
Savior, to Your breast;
’Tis the freed bird winging
To her glory-nest:
Life and Death with Jesus-
Heritage how blest!"

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"O Lord! how happy is the time,
When in Your love I rest,
When from my weariness I climb,
Even to Your tender breast.
The night of sorrow ends there,
Your rays outshine the sun.
And in Your pardon, and Your care,
The heaven of heavens is won.
"Let the world call itself my foe,
Or let the world allure,
I care not for the world--I go
To this tried Friend and sure.
And when life's fiercest storms are sent
Upon life's wildest sea,
My little bark is confident,
Because it holds by Thee.
"When the law threatens endless death,
Upon the dreadful hill,
Immediately from its consuming breath
My soul mounts higher still;
She hastes to Jesus, wounded, slain,
And finds in Him her home,
Whence she shall not go forth again,
And here no death can come.
"I do not fear the wilderness,
Where You have been before;
No! rather would I daily press
After You! near You, more!
You are my strength, on You I lean,
My heart You make sing,
And to Your pastures green at length
Your chosen flock will bring.
"And if the gate that opens there
Be closed to other men,
It is not closed to those who share
The heart of Jesus then.
That is not losing much of life,
Which is not losing Thee,
Who are as present in the strife,
As in the victory!
"Therefore, how happy is the time,
When in Your love I rest,
When from my weariness I climb,
Even to Your tender breast.
The night of sorrow ends there,
Your rays outshine the sun,
And in Your pardon and Your care,
The heaven of heavens is won!"
--From the German of Dresler.

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"We are ONE in Christ our Lord,
Time has no chain to bind us,
We fear not death's sharp sword,
And the grave we leave behind us."
"We are ONE in faith below,
In hope and consolation,
Though garb and colors show
Shadows of variation."
"We are ONE in love divine,
Each stony heart renewing,
Let it reflected shine,
Christians, your hearts imbuing."
"We are ONE from Christ's last prayer,
Whom the Father hears ever,
And how can we despair,
Who from his love can sever?"
"We are ONE in homes on high,
Which Jesus is preparing,
For the blessed ones who die,
One cross, one glory sharing."
"We are ONE in Christ our Lord,
O You, of peace the Giver
From every strife abhorred
Your family deliver."
"We are ONE in Christ our Lord,
He speaks who knows no turning,
And we stay upon his word,
Its light afar discerning."
"We are ONE in Christ our Lord,
Though earth and hell endeavor
To change his mighty word,
Its truth abides ever."

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_"Jesus, let Your pitying eye
Call back a wandering sheep;
False to You like Peter, I
Would gladly like Peter weep.
Let me be by grace restored;
On me be all patience shown;
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break this heart of stone.
"Look as when Your grace beheld
The harlot in distress,
Dried her tears, her pardon sealed,
And bade her go in peace;
"Foul, like her, and self-abhorred,
I at Your feet for mercy groan:
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break this heart of stone.
"Look as when, condemned for them,
You did Your followers see;
‘Daughters of Jerusalem!
Weep for yourselves, not me.’
And am I by my God deplored,
And shall I not myself bemoan?
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break this heart of stone.
"Look as when Your languid eye
Was closed that we might live:
‘Father,’ (at the point to die
My Savior cried,) ‘forgive;’
Surely with that dying word,
He turns, and looks, and cries, ‘Tis done!’
O my gracious, bleeding Lord,
You break my heart of stone!"

________________________________________________________________

"Welcome, weeping penitent;
Grace has made your heart relent:
Welcome, long-estranged child;
God in Christ is reconciled.
"Welcome to the cleansing fount,
Springing from the sacred mount;
Welcome to the feast divine,
Bread of life, and living wine.
"Oh, the virtue of that price,
That redeeming sacrifice!
Come, you bought, but not with gold,
Welcome to the sacred fold."

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“I saw an aged Pilgrim,
Whose toilsome march was o’er,
With slow and painful footstep
Approaching Jordan’s shore:
He first his dusty vestment
And sandals cast aside,
Then, with an air of transport,
Enter’d the swelling tide.
“I thought to see him shudder,
As cold the waters rose,
And fear’d lest o’er him, surging,
The murky stream should close;
But calmly and unshrinking,
The billowy path he trod,
And cheer’d with Jesus’ presence,
Pass’d o’er the raging flood.
“On yonder shore to greet him,
I saw a shining throng;
Some just begun their praising,
Some had been praising long;
With joy they bade him welcome,
And struck their harps again,
While through the heavenly arches
Peal’d the triumphal strain.
24 Help Heavenward
“Now in a robe of glory,
And with a starry crown,
I see the weary Pilgrim
With Kings and Priests sit down;
With Prophets, Patriarchs, Martyrs,
And Saints, a countless throng,
He chants his great deliverance,
In never-ceasing song.”
American—Anon.

________________________________________________________________

"My God, my Father, while I stray
Far from my home on life's rough way
Oh teach me from my heart to say,
Your will be done."
"Though dark my path, or sad my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not,
But breathe the prayer, divinely taught,
Your will be done."
"Should pining sickness waste away
My life in premature decay,
May I with meek submission say,
Your will be done."
"If You should call me to resign
What most I prize- it never was mine,
I only yield You what was Thine.
Your will be done."
"Control my will from day to day,
Blend it with Yours, and take away
All that now makes it hard to say,
Your will be done."
"And when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer often mixed with tears before,
I'll sing upon a happier

________________________________________________________________

"Death comes to take me where I long to be;
One pang, and brighter blooms the immortal flower.
Death comes to lead me from mortality,
To lands which know not one unhappy hour;
I have a hope, a faith--from sorrow here
I'm led by death away--why should I start or fear?
"A change from woe to joy--from earth to heaven--
Death gives me this--it leads me calmly where
The smile that long ago from mine were riven
May meet again! Death answers many a prayer.
Bright day, shine on! be glad--days brighter far
Are stretched before my eyes than those of mortals are!
"Death comes, but with it comes the Lord of death,
The Christ who gave His life a sacrifice for me;
And I with joy will yield my parting breath,
Wrapped in the splendor of the home I then shall see–
And thus from GRACE to GLORY I shall go,
Have passed from earth, with all its scenes of weariness and woe."

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"A Mighty Fortress Is Our God": Hymns As Poetry ---New Window 01-03-05
Martin Luther

Compiled by Tom Stewart. "A mighty fortress is our God, A bulwark never failing; Our helper He amid the flood Of mortal ills prevailing." Read the poetry, background, and Scripture of "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God."

 

"Amazing Grace": Hymns as Poetry ---New Window 6-5-2005
John Newton

Compiled by Tom Stewart. "Amazing grace! how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me!" Read the poetry, background, and Scripture of "Amazing Grace."

 

"Come, Ye Thankful People, Come": Hymns As Poetry ---New Window (1810-1871)
Henry Alford

"While the first verse chiefly addresses the theme of thanksgiving, the last three verses deal with the theme of final harvest in the judgment of the world as paralleled in Christ's parables of the wheat and tares (Matthew 13:24-30) and the parable of the seed springing up without the sower knowing of it (Mark 4:26-29)."

 

"Peace Be Still" ---New Window 5-8-2001
David Stewart

"Then from the midst of this swelling sea,
A voice so calm and clear.
Twas, "Peace be still," that reached my ear,
Calmed my heart, and allayed my fear..."

 

"The King Draws Near" ---New Window (1836-1895)
A. J. Gordon

"O church of Christ, behold at last
The promised Sign appear,--
The Gospel preached in all the world;
And lo! the King draws near...

With girded loins, make haste! Make haste!
Thy witness to complete,
That Christ may take His Throne and bring
All nations to His feet..."

 

"The Watered Lilies" ---New Window 5-8-2001
Anonymous

"Close to His feet on the pathway,
Empty, and frail, and small,
An earthen vessel was lying,
Which seemed no use at all;

But the Master saw, and raised it
From the dust in which it lay,
And smiled, as He gently whispered,
"This shall do My work today..."

 

Appeal ---New Window (1820-1849)
Anne Bronte

Oh, I am very weary,
Though tears no longer flow;
My eyes are tires of weeping,
My heart is sick of woe...

 

Divine Scheme ---New Window (1792-1875)
Charles G. Finney

O, when you come to see Him face to face,
and tell Him what you think of His plan,
when you are some
thousands of years
older than you are now...

 

Faith and Despondency ---New Window (1818-1848)
Emily Bronte

The winter wind is loud and wild,
Come close to me, my darling child;
Forsake thy books, and mateless play;
And, while the night is gathering grey,
We'll talk its pensive hours away...

 

Hymnal Poetry ---New Window
Various

"Immortal, invisible, God only wise,
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, Thy great Name we praise..."

--Walter Chalmers Smith, 1867

 

I Should Have Known, or, Hell Is Real ---New Window
Anonymous

"Lord, please, I'm young.
I never thought I would die.
I thought I'd have plenty of time.
Death caught me by surprise..."

 

If This Be All ---New Window (1820-1849)
Anne Bronte

O God! if this indeed by all
That Life can show to me;
If on my aching brow may fall
No freshening dew from Thee...

 

Immanuel ---New Window (1834-1892)
C. H. Spurgeon

A poem (with pictures) from "The Life and Works of Rev. Charles H. Spurgeon"

"When hell enraged lifts up her roar;
When Satan stops my path before;
When fiends rejoice and wait my end;
When legioned hosts their arrows send,
Fear not, my soul, but hurl at hell
Thy battle-cry, Immanuel..."

 

Life ---New Window (1816-1855)
Charlotte Bronte

Life, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day...

 

Music On Christmas Morning ---New Window (1820-1849)
Anne Bronte

Music I love -- but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine --
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne...

 

No Coward Soul Is Mine ---New Window (1818-1848)
Emily Bronte

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heavens glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear...

 

Only A Branch ---New Window
Freda Hanbury

"Tis only a little Branch,
A thing so fragile and weak,
But that little Branch hath a message true
To give, could it only speak..."

 

See the Day of GOD Appear! ---New Window
Anonymous

Lo! He cometh! countless trumpets
Blow to raise the sleeping dead;
'Midst ten thousand saints and angels
See their great exalted Head.
Hallelujah!...

 

Temporal Things Spiritualized ---New Window (1628-1688)
John Bunyan

from the collection:
XLIV.
OF THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST.

Who's this that cometh from the wilderness,
Like smokey pillars thus perfum'd with myrrh,
Leaning upon her dearest in distress,
Led into's bosom by the Comforter?

She's clothed with the sun, crowned with twelve stars,
The spotted moon her footstool she hath made.
The dragon her assaults, fills her with jars,
Yet rests she under her Beloved's shade,

But whence was she? what is her pedigree?
Was not her father a poor Amorite?
What was her mother but as others be,
A poor, a wretched, and a sinful Hittite.

Yea, as for her, the day that she was born,
As loathsome, out of doors they did her cast;
Naked and filthy, stinking and forlorn;
This was her pedigree from first to last...

 

That Time Is Drawing Near ---New Window
Ima Dean Jones

It is an appointed time
When Jesus will split those eastern skys,
There has been no delay,
Soon we'll be caught away
In the twinkling of an eye...

 

The Penitent ---New Window (1820-1849)
Anne Bronte

I mourn with thee, and yet rejoice
That thou shouldst sorrow so;
With angel choirs I join my voice
To bless the sinners woe...

 

The True Course ---New Window
Anonymous

My heading set,
my course laid...

 

MORE POETRY COMING SOON, COME BACK OFTEN

ONLY A BRANCH
"I am the vine, ye are the branches."--John 15:5
"Tis only a little Branch,
A thing so fragile and weak,
But that little Branch hath a message true
To give, could it only speak.

"I'm only a little Branch,
I live by a life not mine,
For the sap that flows through my tendrils small
Is the life-blood of the Vine.

"No power indeed have I
The fruit of myself to bear,
But since I'm part of the living Vine,
Its fruitfulness I share.

"Dost thou ask how I abide?
How this life I can maintain?--
I am bound to the Vine by life's strong band,
And I only need remain.

"Where first my life was given,
In the spot where I am set,
Upborne and upheld as the days go by,
By the stem which bears me yet.

"I fear not the days to come,
I dwell not upon the past,
As moment by moment I draw a life,
Which for evermore shall last.

"I bask in the sun's bright beams,
Which with sweetness fills my fruit,
Yet I own not the clusters hanging there,
For they all come from the root."

A life which is not my own,
But another's life in me:
This, this is the message the Branch would speak,
A message to thee and me.

Oh, struggle not to "abide,"
Nor labor to "bring forth fruit,"
But let Jesus unite thee to Himself,
As the Vine Branch to the root.

So simple, so deep, so strong
That union with Him shall be:
His life shall forever replace thine own,
And His love shall flow through thee.

For His Spirit's fruit is love,
And love shall thy life become,
And for evermore on His heart of love
Thy spirit shall have her home.

Freda Hanbury

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"Go, search the Scriptures," saith our Lord,
"They testify of Me";
"Tis truth's eternal, great record,
From every error free.
There my eternal Godhead shines
With bright, refulgent rays;
There beam Jehovah"s great designs,
From everlasting days.
There the great gospel scheme behold,
Chief of the works of God,
Replete with grace and love untold,
And pardon, bought with blood.
There's armour for the trying day,
Both shield and helmet too;
And grace, the fainting soul to stay,
And always something new.
There's balm to heal the wounds of sin,
On life's fair tree it grows;
And blood to wash your garments in,
From Jesus' side it flows."
O may the Spirit's influence sweet
Shine on the glorious whole,
Its precepts guide my roving feet,
And promise feast my soul.
Let Revelation's glories shine,
And spread from sea to sea;
Till reason stoops to faith divine,
And owns her sovereign sway.

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