Poems About God

The Little Harebell by Anonymous
God is Everywhere by Joseph Hutton
The Still, Small Voice by Amos Russel Wells
Weaving by Florence May Alt
Remember by Anonymous
Who Made the Stars? by Anonymous
God is Great and Good by Anonymous
God Is Love by Ann Hawkshaw
God is Guide by Amos Russel Wells
The Creator by John Keble
Vestigia by Bliss Carman
Here and Now by Bliss Carman
Triumphalis by Bliss Carman
Hymn at Sea by Lydia Howard Sigourney
The Gate of the Year by Minnie Louise Haskins
Happiness Is To Be Found In God Alone by Eliza and Sarah Wolcott
My God by William Henry Dawson
Winter Now by Samuel Longfellow
God's Gold by Annette Wynne
All Things Bright and Beautiful by Cecil Frances Alexander
God's Love by Kate Louise Wheeler
God's Garden by Annette Wynne
Peace by Henry Van Dyke
Bring me the sunset in a cup by Emily Dickinson
Transformation by Henry Van Dyke
Recompense by Grace Noll Crowell
On the Universality and Other Attributes of the God of Nature by Philip Freneau
Come Ye Thankful People Come by Henry Alford
Why? by Georgia Douglas Johnson
God's Mercy by Robert Herrick
God our Refuge by Richard Chenevix Trench
No Coward Soul Is Mine by Emily Brontë
Many Weep by Gigi Ryan
Thou Knowest by John Hill Luther
Old Mr. Grumpy by Amos Russel Wells
No God by Lizzie F. Baldy
The Wisdom of God by Thomas Randall
A Mighty Fortress Is Our God by Martin Luther, F. H. Hedge, tr.
Trust by Elizabeth Hedge Webster

Turn, turn, my wheel! This earthen jar
A touch can make, a touch can mar;
And shall it to the Potter say,
What makest thou? Thou hast no hand?
As men who think to understand
A world by their Creator planned,
Who wiser is than they.

– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Song of the Potter

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The Little Harebell

by Anonymous

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"Tell me, little harebell,
Are you lonely here.
Blooming in the shadow
On this rock so drear?"

"Clinging to this bit of earth,
As if in mid-air,
With your sweet face turned to me,
Looking strangely fair?"

"Lady" said the harebell,
Nodding low its head,
"Though this spot seem dreary,
Thought the sunlight's fled.

"Know that I'm not lonely
That I ne'er despair.
God is in the shadow
God is everywhere."
God is Everywhere

by Joseph Hutton

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Oh! show me where is He,
The high and holy One,
To whom thou bend'st the knee,
And prayest, "Thy will be done!"
I hear thy song of praise,
And lo! no form is near:
Thine eyes I see thee raise,
But where doth God appear?
Oh! teach me who is God, and where his glories shine,
That I may kneel and pray, and call thy Father mine.

"Gaze on that arch above:
The glittering vault admire.
Who taught those orbs to move?
Who lit their ceaseless fire?
Who guides the moon to run
In silence through the skies?
Who bids that dawning sun
In strength and beauty rise?
There view immensity! behold! my God is there:
The sun, the moon, the stars, his majesty declare.

"See where the mountains rise:
Where thundering torrents foam;
Where, veiled in towering skies,
The eagle makes his home:
Where savage nature dwells,
My God is present, too:
Through all her wildest dells
His footsteps I pursue:
He reared those giant cliffs, supplies that dashing stream,
Provides the daily food which stills the wild bird's scream.

"Look on that world of waves,
Where finny nations glide;
Within whose deep, dark caves
The ocean monsters hide:
His power is sovereign there,
To raise, to quell the storm;
The depths his bounty share,
Where sport the scaly swarm:
Tempests and calms obey the same almighty voice,
Which rules the earth and skies, and bids far worlds rejoice."
The Still, Small Voice

by Amos Russel Wells

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When the winds of trouble blow,
When the tempests roar,
When the angry waves of woe
Break upon the shore,
Let me know that God is near,
Let me still rejoice,
Let me in the tempest hear
The still, small voice.

When the earthquake rends the rock,
When the world is torn,
When in sudden, awful shock
Men and nations mourn,
Let me know that God abides,
Even then rejoice,
Since in every earthquake hides
The still, small voice.

When the world is all aflame
With a sweeping fire,
When God's wrath and human shame
Burn with dreadful ire,
Let me know God's love to men,
Let me still rejoice,
Gladly hearing, even then,
The still, small voice.
Weaving

by Florence May Alt

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My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me;
I may but choose the colors—
He worketh steadily.
Full oft he weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride,
Forget he sees the upper,
And I the under side!

I choose my strands all golden,
And watch for woven stars;
I murmur when the pattern
Is set in blurs and mars.
I cannot yet remember
Whose hands the shuttles guide;
And that my stars are shining
Upon the upper side.

I choose my thread all crimson,
And wait for flowers to bloom,
For warp and woof to blossom
Upon that mighty loom.
Full oft I seek them vainly,
And fret for them denied—
Though flowering wreaths and garlands,
May deck the upper side.

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me;
I see the seams, the tangles—
The fair design sees He.
Then let me wait in patience
And blindness; satisfied
To make the pattern lovely
Upon the upper side.
Remember

by Anonymous

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Remember, child, remember,
That God is in the sky;
That He looks down on all we do,
With an ever-wakeful eye.

Remember, oh remember,
That, all the day and night,
He sees our thoughts and actions
With an ever-watchful sight.

Remember, child, remember,
That God is good and true;
That He wishes us to always be
Like Him in all we do.

Remember that He ever hates
A falsehood or a lie;
Remember He will punish, too,
The wicked, by and by.

Remember, oh remember,
That He is like a friend,
And wishes us to holy be,
And happy, in the end.

Remember, child, remember,
To pray to Him in heaven;
And if you have been doing wrong,
Oh, ask to be forgiven.

Be sorry, in your little prayer,
And whisper in his ear;
Ask his forgiveness and his love.
And He will surely hear.

Remember, child, remember,
That you love, with all your might,
The God who watches o'er us,
And gives us each delight;
Who guards us ever through the day,
And saves us in the night.
Who Made the Stars?

by Anonymous

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"Mother, who made the stars, which light
The beautiful blue sky?
Who made the moon, so clear and bright,
That rises up so high?"

"'T was God, my child, the Glorious One,
He formed them by his power;
He made alike the brilliant sun,
And every leaf and flower.

"He made your little feet to walk;
Your sparkling eyes to see;
Your busy, prattling tongue to talk,
And limbs so light and free.

"He paints each fragrant flower that blows,
With loveliness and bloom;
He gives the violet and the rose
Their beauty and perfume.

"Our various wants his hands supply;
He guides us every hour;
We're kept beneath his watchful eye,
And guarded by his power.

"Then let your little heart, my love,
Its grateful homage pay
To that kind Friend, who, from above,
Thus guides you every day.

"In all the changing scenes of time,
On Him our hopes depend;
In every age, in every clime,
Our Father and our Friend."
God is Great and Good

by Anonymous

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I know God made the sun
To fill the day with light;
He made the twinkling stars
To shine all through the night.

He made the hills that rise
So very high and steep;
He made the lakes and seas,
That are so broad and deep.

He made the streams so wide,
That flow through wood and vale;
He made the rills so small,
That leap down hill and dale.

He made each bird that sings
So sweetly all the day;
He made each flower that springs
So bright, so fresh, so gay.

And He who made all these,
He made both you and me;
Oh, let us thank Him, then,
For great and good is He.
God Is Love

by Ann Hawkshaw

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Oh, that I know, indeed, is true,
For He has made the sky of blue,
And spread the earth with quiet green,
While azure waters flow between,
Because those colours are the best
On which the wearied eye can rest.

Oh yes, all tells us God is love,
Around, beneath us, or above:
Round us are flowers, that without care
Grow wildly, blooming everywhere,
And noble trees, beneath whose shade
The pale Spring flowrets bloom and fade.

Beneath us, deep within their bed,
The precious gems and ores are spread,
Diamonds and rosy rubies shine,
And metals fill the secret mine,
And that dark mass* which we require
At eve, to light our cheerful fire.

Above us is the glorious sun;
And when his brighter course is run,
The silvery moon looks forth, and makes
A path of light o'er seas and lakes;
And in the hushed and solemn night
Wander the starry worlds of light.

Within us, as around, above,
Something still whispers God is Love;
For He hath given us hearts to feel
A gladness tongue cannot reveal—
Vainly had beauty round us been,
Had we no minds to love the scene!

Note: *coal
God is Guide

by Amos Russel Wells

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God is guide, though clouds are black;
God is guide when skies are clear.
God is guide, though ways turn back;
God is guide when goals are near.

Hopes accomplished, God is guide;
Hopes abandoned, still He leads.
Trust we Him when faith is tried;
Trust we Him when all succeeds.

As we follow, on He goes;
We retreat, He falters not.
Guides He where cool water flows;
Guides He when the sun is hot.

Leaders lead both night and day;
Guides must guide through day and night.
Father, guide us all the way.
Be it dark or be it light;
The Creator

by John Keble.

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Come, and I will show you what is beautiful. It is a rose fully blown. See how she sits upon her mossy stem, the queen of flowers. Her leaves glow like fire. The air is filled with her sweet odor. She is the delight of every eye.

But there is one fairer than the rose. He that made the rose is more beautiful than the rose. He is altogether lovely. He is the delight of every heart.

I will show you what is strong. The lion is strong. When he raiseth himself up from his lair, when he shaketh his mane, when the voice of his roaring is heard, the cattle of the field fly, and the wild beasts of the desert hide themselves; for he is terrible.

But He who made the lion is stronger than the lion. He can do all things. He gave us life, and in a moment can take it away, and no one can save us from his hand.

I will show you what is glorious. The sun is glorious. When he shineth in the clear sky, when he sitteth on his throne in the heavens, and looketh abroad over the earth, he is the most glorious and excellent object the eye can behold.

But He who made the sun is more glorious than the sun. The eye cannot look on his dazzling brightness. He seeth all dark places, by night as well as by day. The light of his countenance is over all the world.

This great Being is God. He made all things, but He is more excellent than all that He has made. He is the Creator, they are the creatures. They may be beautiful, but He is Beauty. They may be strong, but He is Strength. They may be perfect, but He is Perfection.

There is a book, who runs may read,
Which heavenly truth imparts,
And all the lore its scholars need—
Pure eyes and loving hearts.

The works of God, above, below,
Within us, and around,
Are pages in that book, to show
How God himself is found.

The glorious sky, embracing all,
Is like the Father's love;
Wherewith encompassed, great and small
In peace and order move.

Thou who hast given me eyes to see
And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee
And read Thee everywhere.
Vestigia

by Bliss Carman

I took a day to search for God,
And found Him not. But as I trod
By rocky ledge, through woods untamed,
Just where one scarlet lily flamed,
I saw His footprint in the sod.

Then suddenly, all unaware,
Far off in the deep shadows, where
A solitary hermit thrush
Sang through the holy twilight hush—
I heard His voice upon the air.

And even as I marvelled how
God gives us Heaven here and now,
In a stir of wind that hardly shook
The poplar leaves beside the brook—
His hand was light upon my brow.

At last with evening as I turned
Homeward, and thought what I had learned
And all that there was still to probe—
I caught the glory of His robe
Where the last fires of sunset burned.

Back to the world with quickening start
I looked and longed for any part
In making saving Beauty be....
And from that kindling ecstasy
I knew God dwelt within my heart.
Here and Now

by Bliss Carman

Where is Heaven? Is it not
Just a friendly garden plot,
Walled with stone and roofed with sun,
Where the days pass one by one,
Not too fast and not too slow,
Looking backward as they go
At the beauties left behind
To transport the pensive mind!

Is it not a greening ground
With a river for its bound,
And a wood-thrush to prolong
Fragrant twilights with his song,
When the peonies in June
Wait the rising of the moon,
And the music of the stream
Voices its immortal dream!

There each morning will renew
The miracle of light and dew,
And the soul may joy to praise
The Lord of roses and of days;
There the caravan of noon
Halts to hear the cricket's tune,
Fifing there for all who pass
The anthem of the summer grass!

Does not Heaven begin that day
When the eager heart can say,
Surely God is in this place,
I have seen Him face to face
In the loveliness of flowers,
In the service of the showers,
And His voice has talked to me
In the sunlit apple tree.

I can feel Him in my heart,
When the tears of knowledge start
For another's joy or woe,
Where the lonely soul must go.
Yea, I learned His very look,
When we walked beside the brook,
And you smiled and touched my hand.
God is love. . . I understand.
Triumphalis

by Bliss Carman

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Soul, art thou sad again
With the old sadness?
Thou shalt be glad again
With a new gladness,
When April sun and rain
Mount to the teeming brain
With the earth madness.

When from the mould again,
Spurning disaster,
Spring shoots unfold again,
Follow thou faster
Out of the drear domain
Of dark, defeat, and pain,
Praising the Master.

Hope for thy guide again,
Ample and splendid;
Love at thy side again,
All doubting ended;
(Ah, by the dragon slain,
For nothing small or vain
Michael contended!)

Thou shalt take heart again,
No more despairing;
Play thy great part again,
Loving and caring.
Hark, how the gold refrain
Runs through the iron strain,
Splendidly daring!

Thou shalt grow strong again,
Confident, tender,—
Battle with wrong again,
Be truth's defender,—
Of the immortal train,
Born to attempt, attain,
Never surrender!
Hymn at Sea

by Lydia Howard Sigourney

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God of the ever-rolling deep,
Our Father and our trust,
Who bidd'st its mighty billows sweep
Around the born of dust,

Who bidd'st it towering o'er them raise
Its everlasting walls,
Yet giv'st them slumber calm and sweet,
As in their native halls,

God of the strong, unfathom'd tide,
Whose pavement dark and drear,
The wrecks of human power and pride,
Awake our trembling fear,

O grant us, as the lonely dove
Unto the ark did flee,
Mid the hoarse tumult of the waves
To rest secure in Thee.
The Gate of the Year

by Minnie Louise Haskins

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And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”
And he replied:
“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”
So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.

So heart be still:
What need our little life
Our human life to know,
If God hath comprehension?
In all the dizzy strife
Of things both high and low,
God hideth His intention.

God knows. His will
Is best. The stretch of years
Which wind ahead, so dim
To our imperfect vision,
Are clear to God. Our fears
Are premature; In Him,
All time hath full provision.

Then rest: until
God moves to lift the veil
From our impatient eyes,
When, as the sweeter features
Of Life’s stern face we hail,
Fair beyond all surmise
God’s thought around His creatures
Our mind shall fill.
Happiness Is To Be Found In God Alone

by Eliza and Sarah Wolcott

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I've seen earth's prospects blasted,
To me they've died away;
But heaven's bright promise lasted,
Which never can decay.

I've felt the fond emotion
Of pity and of love;
But nothing's like devotion,
Which lifts the heart above.

Then earth may tell her story,
Of pomp and all its gain;
To me this boasted glory,
Is nothing worth—'tis vain.

To know that God approveth,
Is better far than wealth;
He chastens those he loveth,
To keep their souls in health.

True value, and true glory,
His word will then unfold;
This is no transient story,
But truth confirm'd of old.

'Tis this can give us pleasure,
When friends away are fleeting,
Be this my lasting treasure,
When life's last pulse is beating.
My God

by William Henry Dawson

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I worship not a God who only made
Great things—a God who little things don't see.
The God whom I adore peers through the shade
And sees the ant beneath the giant tree.

My God sees 'neath the robes of royalty
The vileness, from the world, heart-hidden there.
He sees beneath the rags of poverty
The patiently borne burden, and the care.

If the great God should no attention give
To little things—unnoticed pass them by—
Then, great things, only, could presume to live;
All tiny things would shrivel up and die.

I should be numbered with the tiny things;
I could not claim my Father's fostering care—
This life, which now to Him so fondly clings,
Could not say "Father."—No, it would not dare.

No! thanks to Him, the worship of my soul
Goes out to One who hears the orphan's call;
To Him who makes the wounded spirit whole;
To Him who sees the little sparrow fall.
Winter Now

by Samuel Longfellow

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’Tis winter now; the fallen snow
Has left the heav’ns all coldly clear;
Through leafless boughs the sharp winds blow,
And all the earth lies dead and drear.

And yet God’s love is not withdrawn;
His life within the keen air breathes;
His beauty paints the crimson dawn,
And clothes the boughs with glittering wreaths.

And though abroad the sharp winds blow,
And skies are chill, and frosts are keen,
Home closer draws her circle now,
And warmer glows her light within.

O God! Who giv’st the winter’s cold
As well as summer’s joyous rays,
Us warmly in Thy love enfold,
And keep us through life’s wintry days.
God's Gold

by Annette Wynne

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God placed a gold mint in the sky—
Large and bright, a heaping store—
So earth can every day have more,
He keeps it high,

He scatters gold abroad at day
In shining beams; then far and near
Dandelions gold appear
Along the way.

This is God's gold dropped from the skies,
He gives it lavishly to earth—
O take it, spend it, learn its worth—
All ye with eyes!
All Things Bright and Beautiful

by Cecil Frances Alexander

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All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.

The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them high and lowly,
And ordered their estate.

The purple headed mountain,
The river running by,
The sunset and the morning,
That brightens up the sky;−

The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,−
He made them every one.

The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water,
We gather every day;−

He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty,
Who hath made all things well.
God's Love

by Kate Louise Wheeler

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Like a star, whose beams are brighter
When skies are dark above,
So shines, in night of sorrow,
The light of God's great love.

We may not see its lustre,
While heads are bowed in prayer,
But looking just above us
We find its glories there.

Our tears may dim the vision
And we may question why;
But some day He will answer
Where souls shall never die.

Above the gathering shadows,
Beyond the gloom of years,
God's star will shine forever,
Undimmed by Sorrow's tears.

Some day, when He shall lead us
To our eternal rest,
We'll know life's hidden meaning
And we shall say: "'Twas best."
God's Garden

by Annette Wynne

God's garden stretches far and wide,
With trees and birds on every side,
With sunshine all the summer day
So people may walk out and play,
And lanterns hanging through the night
To keep the pathways always bright;
God's garden stretches near and far—
From my gate to the evening star.
The Harebells Ring

by Annette Wynne

The harebells ring on every lea,
They call the blue bells oversea,
And all the world takes up the tune,
Skies and earth, it's June, June, June!
Peace

by Henry Van Dyke

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With eager heart and will on fire,
I fought to win my great desire
"Peace shall be mine," I said; but life
Grew bitter in the weary strife.

My soul was tired, and my pride
Was wounded deep: to Heaven I cried,
"God grant me peace or I must die;"
The dumb stars glittered no reply.

Broken at last, I bowed my head,
Forgetting all myself, and said,
"Whatever comes, His will be done;"
And in that moment peace was won.
Problems

by Emily Dickinson

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Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up,
And say how many dew;
Tell me how far the morning leaps,
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadths of blue!

Write me how many notes there be
In the new robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs;
How many trips the tortoise makes,
How many cups the bee partakes, —
The debauchee of dews!

Also, who laid the rainbow's piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite,
Who counts the wampum of the night,
To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban house
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day,
With implements to fly away,
Passing pomposity?

¹Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said,...⁴Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding. ⁵Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it? ⁶Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof;... ³³Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth? ³⁴Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, that abundance of waters may cover thee? ³⁵Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go, and say unto thee, Here we are? ³⁶Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts? or who hath given understanding to the heart? ³⁷Who can number the clouds in wisdom? or who can stay the bottles of heaven,

– Job 38
The Bible, KJV

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Transformation

by Henry Van Dyke

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Only a little shrivelled seed,
It might be flower, or grass, or weed;
Only a box of earth on the edge
Of a narrow, dusty window-ledge;
Only a few scant summer showers;
Only a few clear shining hours;
That was all. Yet God could make
Out of these, for a sick child's sake,
A blossom-wonder, as fair and sweet
As ever broke at an angel's feet.

Only a life of barren pain,
Wet with sorrowful tears for rain,
Warmed sometimes by a wandering gleam
Of joy, that seemed but a happy dream;
A life as common and brown and bare
As the box of earth in the window there;
Yet it bore, at last, the precious bloom
Of a perfect soul in that narrow room;
Pure as the snowy leaves that fold
Over the flower's heart of gold.
Recompense

by Grace Noll Crowell

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I never have had a look at the sea,
I who would love it so.
I never have watched from the surf-drenched shore
The brave ships come and go.
I do not know how the silent tides
Unfailingly ebb and flow.

But God who is wise to His children's needs
Gives me the wide, low plain,
He gives me the wondrous, whispering grass,
The kildee's sweet refrain,
And my reed-fringed pools are myriad seas
After the last long rain.

I never have been where the mountains stand
Majestic,—aloof,—apart,
But nightly the infinite star-crowned heights
Speak to my waiting heart,
And mine are the winds that are mountain-born,
And of seas they are a part.
On the Universality and Other Attributes of the God of Nature

by Philip Freneau

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All that we see, about, abroad,
What is it all, but nature's God?
In meaner works discovered here
No less than in the starry sphere.

In seas, on earth, this God is seen;
All that exist, upon Him lean;
He lives in all, and never strayed
A moment from the works He made:

His system fixed on general laws
Bespeaks a wise creating cause;
Impartially He rules mankind
And all that on this globe we find.

Unchanged in all that seems to change,
Unbounded space is His great range;
To one vast purpose always true,
No time, with Him, is old or new.

In all the attributes divine
Unlimited perfectings shine;
In these enwrapt, in these complete,
All virtues in that centre meet.

This power doth all powers transcend,
To all intelligence a friend,
Exists, the greatest and the best
Throughout all the worlds, to make them blest.

All that He did He first approved,
He all things into being loved;
O'er all He made He still presides,
For them in life, or death provides.
Come Ye Thankful People Come

by Henry Alford

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Come ye thankful people come,
Raise the song of harvest home!
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;
God our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied:
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest home.

All the world is God's own field
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear;
Lord of the harvest! grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take his harvest home;
From his field shall in that day
All offenses purge away,
Give his angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In his garner evermore.

Even so, Lord, quickly come,
Bring thy final harvest home;
Gather thou thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There, forever purified,
in thy presence to abide;
Come, with all thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest home.
Why

by Georgia Douglas Johnson

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The verdure sleeps in winter,
Awakes with April rain,
The sun swings low—'tis night—ascends,
And lo! 'tis morn again:
The world spins on triumphant
Across a trackless sky,
And man seeks evermore in vain
The primal reason why.

O whither are we rushing?
And wherefrom were we torn?
We breathe from out the silences,
And breathless, back are borne.

Deep in the soul are voices
Returning this reply:
It took a God to make us,
Only God can answer why!
God's Mercy

by Robert Herrick

God's boundless mercy is (to sinful man)
Like to the ever-wealthy ocean:
Which though it sends forth thousand streams, 'tis ne're
Known, or else seen, to be the emptier;
And though it takes all in, 'tis yet no more
Full, and filled full, then when full filled before.
God our Refuge

by Richard Chenevix Trench, Archbishop of Dublin

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If there had anywhere appeared in space
Another place of refuge, where to flee,
Our hearts had taken refuge in that place,
And not with Thee.

For we against creation’s bars had beat
Like prisoned eagles, through great worlds had sought
Though but a foot of ground to plant our feet,
Where Thou wert not.

And only when we found in earth and air,
In heaven or hell, that such might nowhere be—
That we could not flee from Thee anywhere,
We fled to Thee.
God our Refuge

by Richard Chenevix Trench, Archbishop of Dublin

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If there had anywhere appeared in space
Another place of refuge, where to flee,
Our hearts had taken refuge in that place,
And not with Thee.

For we against creation’s bars had beat
Like prisoned eagles, through great worlds had sought
Though but a foot of ground to plant our feet,
Where Thou wert not.

And only when we found in earth and air,
In heaven or hell, that such might nowhere be—
That we could not flee from Thee anywhere,
We fled to Thee.
No Coward Soul Is Mine

by Emily Brontë

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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.
Many Weep

by Gigi Ryan

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My Father God, in Heaven great,
We remembrance keep
Of fathers You have given us;
Today, though, many weep.

Countless tears right now are shed
For fathers in the grave.
Some the dirt atop still fresh
When life this week upgave.

Others in mind of fathers whom
Abandoned years ago.
Children who are missing them;
Their longing won’t let go.

Some have fathers who have failed
And brought unmeasured pain.
But their children love them still,
And love is ne’er in vain.

Then I think of men whose child
Left the fold of sheep.
These fathers’ hearts afflicted yet;
With prayer, they vigil keep.

What about the man who wants
To loving father be,
And share his overflowing heart
With one upon his knee?

Fatherhood has broken been
And touched on earth by curse;
But God His work continues still;
All will in time reverse.

On this day of joy and pain,
Hope is not all lost.
God in heaven holds the tears
Of those in suffering tossed.

Saints who ache for father love
Have One who fills their cup;
A Father faithful, kind and wise,
With love that won’t give up.

My Father God, in Heaven great,
Who His children keep
Hold tightly those today who mourn,
For Lord, so many weep.
Old Mr. Grumpy

by Amos Russel Wells | Total Words: 123, Lines: 10

"Praise God! Praise God!" the clover said, "for sunshine and the sky."
And "Praise the Lord!" the brooklet sung, "the rain is drawing nigh."
"Thank God for frost," the squirrel chirped, "so kind to nuts and me."
"For frost, that covers me with gold," chimed in the maple-tree.
And "Praise the Lord for ripened seeds," the chattering sparrows cried.
"And for the wind," the seeds declared, "that bears us far and wide."
"Yes, praise the Lord I Oh, praise the Lord!" though skies were blue or gray.
The hymn of earth and heaven rang throughout the happy day.
Now none of this old Grumpy heard; he's deaf as deaf can be.
"This weather's vilest of the vile! a beastly day I" said he.
The Wisdom of God

by Thomas Randall

Great nature is but art unknown,
'Tis only scanned by God alone;
No one but Him can it explore,
Survey each part and look it o'er.

If man is wise, 'tis but in part,
Though he may climb from art to art;
To worlds unnumbered he may run,
But yet in fact he knows but one.

*&emsp*&emsp*&emsp*

Four volumes Jesus loans to me―
"The heavens, the earth, the air and sea."
No God

by Lizzie F. Baldy

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No God?
Throughout the boundless realm of space
Dare you say there's no God?
Who holds each planet in its place,
And whose Almighty hand doth trace
Those mysteries in Nature's face,
Unless it is our God?

No God?
Who taught the little bird to sing,
And deftly weave its nest?
Who made the insect's tiny wing?
Who caused the echo's voice to ring?
Who bade the lovely flowers spring
From mother Earth's warm breast?

No God?
Who piled the mountain's towering peak,
Those giants of the earth?
Who bade the awful thunder speak,
Who threw the lurid lightning's streak,
The great volcano vengeance wreak?
What gave the ocean birth?

No God?
Who placed the bow in yonder sky?
Who lit the suns above?
Who gathered up the storm on high,
Who sends the whirlwind far and nigh;
Who erusheth out the Stonn-Fiend's cry?
Who keeps us with his love?

No God?
Whom can we turn to in all time?
And what is life's great worth
If we have nothing more sublime?
If we can reach no brighter clime,
If we can hear no sweeter chime
Than sorrow-chilling earth?

No God?
Through the great portals, pearly white,
We see a Father's love.
We know the soul shall know no night;
But upward, through the worlds of light,
The disembodied spirit's flight
Will tend to worlds above.

With God
No chains shall shackle the free soul;
No sorrow crush it down.
It spurns all weight, save love's control:
There Christ shall make th 'imperfect whole,
And while eternity shall roll
T 'will wear His loving crown.

There is a God.
Then let your infidelity
Out into chaos go,
And seek the soul's true liberty,
Where God and angels roaming free,
Shall feel through all eternity
The rest earthlings ne'er know.

The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. They are corrupt, they have done abominable works, there is none that doeth good.

– Psalm 14:1
KJV

“
A Mighty Fortress Is Our God

by Martin Luther, F. H. Hedge, tr.

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A mighty fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing;
Our Helper he, amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing.
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side,
The Man of God's own choosing.
You ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is he;
Lord Sabaoth his name,
From age to age the same,
And he must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled,
Should threaten to undo us;
We will not fear, for God has willed
His truth to triumph through us.
The prince of darkness grim,—
We tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure,
For lo! his doom is sure;—
One little word shall fell him!

That Word above all earthly powers—
No thanks to them—abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours
Through him who with us sideth.
Let goods and kindred go,
This mortal life also;
The body they may kill:
God's truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.
Trust

by Elizabeth Hedge Webster

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In the arms of my Father
As a child trustingly I'll lie,
For I know He careth for me:
He will listen to my cry.

He is like a tender mother,
In His gentle, watchful love;
He is nearer than a brother,
While He bears my soul above.

When the storm clouds darkly gather,
And the thunder mutters deep,
Then I'll think how great a Father
Condescends to guard my sleep.

And I'll nestle closer to Him,
While the forked lightnings gleam,
And serenely lean upon Him,
While I watch their fitful beam.

He'll not leave me sorrowing,
For He stoops to such as I:
He'll not cast me from Him mourning.
For He hears the raven's cry.

And unless his love permits it,
Not a harm can come to me;
So, why should I not trust him
When He such a friend can be?

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