Poet: Greta Zwaan
A child in the womb, a creation of God,
You have no right to destroy it.
Something so wonderful; beautifully made,
He planned that you should enjoy it . . . . .
Poet: Mary C. Ryan
Sitting alone in the gloaming.
With soul grown weary with weeping;
And drifting so far, far away
From the scenes of this lonely day . . . . .
Poet: Arthur Franklin Fuller
Brother, life's day is short —
Eternity has no end;
You should claim salvation now,
Judgment day you'll need a Friend;
Jesus gave his blood for you,
Jesus is a friend who's true
Brother, how can you stay?
Renounce the world and say . . . . .
Poet: Arthur Franklin Fuller
I sat me down by the wayside
To watch the passing throng
And guess at the varied interests
That moved each one along.
I saw the young and simple
Who flirt in wanton glee -
The hurrying man of business
As serious as could be . . . . .
Poet: Henry VanDyke
Thou who hast made thy dwelling fair
With flowers below, above with starry lights
And set thine altars everywhere,-
On mountain heights,
In woodlands dim with many a dream,
In valleys bright with springs,
And on the curving capes of every stream:
Thou who hast taken to thyself the wings
Of morning, to abide
Upon the secret places of the sea,
And on far islands, where the tide
Visits the beauty of untrodden shores,
Waiting for worshippers to come to thee
In thy great out-of-doors!
To thee I turn, to thee I make my prayer,
God of the open air . . . . .
Poet: Mary C. Ryan
Sometimes beneath the richest jewel robes,
The weary heart in supreme anguish throbs,
For this vain haughty world no succor gives
To those who mourn o'er lost chords in this life.
But God, who clothes the lilies of the field,
And gave the birds their plumage bright and warm,
O'er all His creatures, both the great and small,
Has a wise care, and suits His gifts to each.
Although His blessings sometimes come disguised,
With wisdom and unfathomable love
He shapes and rules the destinies of men.
So if we trust in Him, all will be well . . . . .
Poet: Lillian E. Curtis
Press on! press on! though trials assail,
Countenance never a word like fail,
Press on! press on! with courage three-fold,
When Fortune frowns and Fate looks cold,
Though darkness appears to obscure all the light,
Look straight toward the temples of Truth and Right;
Press on! with firm will and motives true,
For there's many a prayer ascends for you;
Press on! with a will totally undaunted . . . . .
Poet: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I prayed for riches, and achieved success;
All that I touched turned into gold. Alas!
My cares were greater and my peace was less,
When that wish came to pass . . . . .
Poet: William Arthur Ward
With God,
No mountain is too high
to keep you from climbing it . . . . .
Poet: John Imrie
Our Father - God, His children - we,
No matter where our birthplace be -
Mid Arctic snows, or torrid clime,
One family since the first of time . . . . .
Poet: J. J. Thorne
If we work and trust in faith,
Our labor will be blessed;
Joy and mercy will reach our home,
And make a home of rest . . . . .
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
How many sorrows daily crowd
The fond and happy breast!
Some thoughtless friend may whisper loud
What should not be expressed . . . . .
Poet: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Know as my life grows older
And mine eyes have clearer sight —
That under each rank wrong, somewhere
There lies the root of Right;
That each sorrow has its purpose,
By the sorrowing oft unguessed,
But as sure as the sun brings morning,
Whatever is — is best . . . . .
Poet: Henry VanDyke
“Two things," the wise man said, “fill me with awe:
The starry heavens and the moral law."
Nay, add another wonder to thy roll,—
The living marvel of the human soul . . . . .
Poet: J.J. Thorne
Man in nature things he knows,
And from truth he is so far;
For Christ was just what he said,
The bright and morning star . . . . .
Poet: Mary C. Ryan
One gloomy day,
A man did stray
Through fields and woodlands drear;
And chanced to see
On the green lea,
A flower sweet and fair.
It was the violet so blue.
That he saw hiding there . . . . .
Poet: John Imrie
The saddest word we ever hear,
Full-fraught with sorrow, hope, and fear,
The fount of many a bitter tear:
Farewell! Farewell . . . . .
Poet: Henry VanDyke
These are the gifts I ask
Of thee, Spirit serene:
Strength for the daily task,
Courage to face the road,
Good cheer to help me bear the traveller's load,
And, for the hours of rest that come between,
An inward joy in all things heard and seen . . . . .
Poet: William Arthur Ward
If I can write one verse of truth today
Or give my fellow man a song to sing;
If I can push one needless cloud away
And help men live as children of the King . . . . .
Poet: J.J. Thorne
The grandest deeds in our power.
Among the human band:
Forgive love and respect all.
And give a helping hand . . . . .
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
Day by day they fall upon me,
Fall upon me from the skies,
Blessings, blessings, without number,
When I rest and when I rise . . . . .
Poet: Caleb Davis Bradlee
Can any one tell where our God may be found?
Has He left anywhere, a mark or a sound?
Is He high up in Heaven, above the blue sky,
Looking down on us all, and counting each sigh . . . . .
Poet: Mary C. Ryan
Sitting alone in the gloaming.
With soul grown weary with weeping;
And drifting so far, far away
From the scenes of this lonely day . . . . .
Poet: Patience Strong
When the soul is plunged into the depths of dark despair -
When the heart is heavy with its load of human care -
When it seems that we shall never see the light again -
Blinded by our sorrows, by the tear-drops and the pain . . . . .
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
There is a God! His voice is heard
In every whispering breeze,
In every leaf that's gently stirred
Upon the forest trees.
The whirlwind in its wrath and might,
O'er-sweeping land and sea,
With desolation in its flight,
Tells of a Deity . . . . .
Poet: Strickland Gillilan
When I am wrong, Lord, courage me to own it;
To say, "Forgive me for the wrong I did."
Drive out the wild desire to condone it
And keep the grievous fault within me hid.
Yet while I honestly admit my sin,
Keep off the friend who likes to rub it in . . . . .
Poet: Wilhelmina Stitch
Like children we will strive to be, earnest in work and kind in play,
for we have heard the Father's plea on this His day.
How often in our youth we heard, "Now promise that you will be good,"
And always tried to keep our word as children should . . . . .
Poet: Greta Zwaan
How devastating to be poor, not having wealth on earth,
No cause to brag of all you own, to be of little worth.
No mansion to adorn with lights, no gardens to display,
No servants who would call you "Sir" and do what e're you say . . . . .
Poet: Greta Zwaan
There are no schemes in this world,
Although you might think it so,
The deeds of darkness come to light,
There's nothing God can't know . . . . .
Poet: Greta Zwaan
I want to serve You Father, I want to praise Your Name,
But often when I speak, I know my deeds are not the same.
I’m full of good intentions; I want to do what’s right,
But with my busy schedule, my plans oft’ times take to flight . . . . .
Poet: Greta Zwaan
I saw Him walk along the shore, alone, He journeyed slowly;
In dark brown sandals, long gray robe, stooped, like the meek and lowly.
His mind seemed oh, so far away, His burden almost felled Him,
He looked quite strong and in control; what inner source compelled Him . . . . .
Poet: Caleb Davis Bradlee
O that precious name
Which brings our God so near;
May its sweet grace our hearts inflame,
And take away our fear . . . . .
A famous Christian poem that reminds us to look up and focus on God rather than letting our focus be on this world.
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
When I daily look up,
And never look down,
I find that my cup
Is filled to the crown;
Whatever is wanted
Into my breast flows;
'Tis when the heart's lifted,
God kindly bestows.
When I grovel in dust,
And murmur and fret,
How few and how meagre
The blessings I get!
'Tis only when upward
I prayerfully turn,
That favors are granted,
And wisdom I learn.
A great poem if you find yourself worrying instead of trusting God. Believe in the Lord's love for everyone.
Poet: David V. Bush
The bridges that I've often crossed
Before they came in sight,
Have been of many, many kinds;
Been grey, or black, or white.
I fancied many brutish ones,
And many could not name;
I've had my many troubles, but
The worst ones never came!
When squirrels get their nuts for food.
They gather for a year,
And do not worry 'bout the next,
For that they have no fear,
But man is not content today,
He lives with troubled aim;
A-thinking 'bout the troubles past.
And those which never came!
Some people build their mounts of care
Of many sorts and kind.
Which like the bridges that they build.
Are mostly in their mind.
Though sun's ablaze and sky is clear,
They think of lightning's flame.
They had their many troubles, but
The worst ones never came!
Now God is in the universe.
The birds and squirrels know,
They worry not, nor do they fret.
For what we reap we sow,
If we sow deeds they'll bear their fruit.
For God will hear our claim;
If we trust Him then we can say.
The worst ones never came!
Poet: Eloise A. Skimings
Trust thou in the Lord, Holy is His name;
When life's shadows cross thy path let thy aim
Be to look on High, then will they depart
And the sunshine of gladness fill thy heart.
Thou hast done thy duty in thy own home,
Glory awaits thee in the world to come;
Rejoice and be glad, thy care is all o'er,
God the Father is with thee evermore.
Thou wilt return, bright as the evening star.
Where now darkness reigns, hope's rays seem afar;
But soon they'll encircle thee, all will be bright.
And joy, blessed joy, will be thine morn and night.
