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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

Poem for For Lent

LEngleMadeleine“For Lent, 1966”           By Madeleine L’Engle

It is my Lent to break my Lent

To eat when I would fast

To know when slender strength is spent

Take shelter from the blast

When I would run with wind and rain

To sleep when I would watch.

It is my Lent to smile at pain

But not ignore its touch.

It is my Lent to listen well

When I would be alone,

To talk when I would rather dwell

In silence turn from none

Who call on me to try to see

That what is truly meant

Is not my choice.

If Christ’s I’d be

It’s thus I’ll keep my Lent.

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isaac wattsWhen I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spreads o’er His body on the tree;
Then I am dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

By Isaac Watts, 1674-1748

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No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere!
I see Heaven’s glories shine,
and Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear.
 
 O God within my breast,
Almighty ever-present Deity!
Life, that in me hast rest
As I, undying Life, have power in thee!
 
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men’s hearts, unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth, amid the boundless main.
 
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of immortality.
 
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears.
 
Though earth and moon were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And thou wert left alone,
Every Existence would exist in thee.
 
There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath,
And what thou art may never be destroyed.
 
–Emily Bronte

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Lord, make my soul

To mirror Thee,

Thyself alone

To shine in me,

That men may see

Thy love, Thy grace,

Not note the glass

That shows Thy face

–Blanche Mary Kelly

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Slave by Choice

Long did I suffer,
bound hand and foot with heavy chains
Cruel master, unrelenting,
body and mind bent in subjection
Burdens too heavy to bear,
a prisoner with no escape, no hope
Longing for death,
one with the dirt beneath me
Stepping out of eternity,
according to His purposes, the King came
Offering a hand, He lifted me
offering water, He quenched my thirst
offering freedom, He broke my chains
offering life, I freely gave mine
Bond Servant to the Most High King
I am a slave for life
I am a slave by choice
Copyright 2012

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Poem on Prayer

I asked for strength that I might achieve–

He made me weak that I might obey.

I asked for health that I might do greater things–

I was given grace that I might do better things.

I asked for riches that I might be happy–

I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for power that I might have the praise of men–

I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life–

I was given life that I might enjoy all things.

I received nothing that I asked for,

All that I hoped for.

My prayer was answered.

  –Author unknown


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No Scar?

[from Toward Jerusalem by Amy Carmichael]

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side or hand?
I hear thee sung as might in the land;
I hear them hail thy bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?
 
Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded by the archers; spent,
Leaned Me against a tree to die; and rent
By ravening beast that compassed Me, I swooned.
Hast thou no wound.
 
No wound?  No scar?
Yet, as the Master shall the servant be,
And pierced are the feet that follow Me.
But thine are whole; can he have followed far
Who has no wound nor scar?
 

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