Be inspired and uplifted by these poems by Ellwood Haines Stokes. He was born in 1815 in New Jersey, USA.. He was a Pastor and he also wrote hymns and poems of which have since been published. He died in 1897, however, his poems and hymns are still referred
to this day.
As you read his poetry you will see his strong faith and belief in God, plus his appreciation of the beauty of creation that surrounded him.
Ellwood Haines Stokes
Popular Ellwood Haines Stokes Short Poems:
Rest In Thee
Poet: Ellwood Haines Stokes
See the Cross! Before it bending,
Joys of pardon sweetly roll;
Blessed Cross, whose peace unending.
Flows in silence through the soul.
Love divine; O holy Saviour,
Never more like Thine will be.
More than Oceans wide Thy favor,
O what bliss to rest in Thee!
Poet: Ellwood Haines Stokes
There's a beautiful light in the evening sky,
As the sun goes down in the golden west;
There's a holy calm in the Christian's eye.
As his labors close and he sinks to rest.
There's a land unseen by our mortal sight
Where the smiles of the Lord forever stay.
And the good go up to that land of light,
As the stars fade out in the light of day.
The lenten days are past! All past
The lenten days of gloom;
The shades of night are flying fast,
The light spreads o'er creation vast,
Lo! Easter morning breaks at last, -
Bring flowers to deck the tomb.
Bring flowers, bright flowers, in their freshness sweet.
And lay them with joy at our dear Lord's feet.
Yes! garland the Cross with flowers,
The rough and rugged Cross;
Christ has met death's deadliest powers.
Has struggled through the lone, dark hours,
Till life immortal, victor towers.
High over every loss;
While living blossoms spring in death's dark way,
And blushing hope blooms into endless day.
The sepulchre is void! All bright,
The joyful angels sit.
Hailing the weepers with delight,
Assuring them that death's dark night,
Is lost in everlasting light,
While heaven's own way is lit,
With His grand life, who mightier than the grave,
Henceforth is known, Omnipotent to save.
Then bring the sweetest flowers, bring flowers,
Jesus has conquered sin;
Bring blossoms from your sweet home bowers,
From morning's fresh and dewy hours,
Or from the vine-girt, twilight towers,
For Jesus, bring them in;
O twine the Cross, for lo, the dark, cold tomb,
Henceforth is fragrant with immortal bloom.
And now, O heart, look up, for thee
There's hope in deepest gloom.
Though thine is sad Gethsemane,
Though thine the Cross and Calvary,
The heart throes and the agony.
The death day and the tomb ;
Soon God's third mom shall break, the light shall roll -
To usher in the Easter of the souL
I sit upon the white sands of the sea;
The solemn waves sigh softly at my feet;
A great, tall ship, with sails all set, complete.
O'er the blue deep moves on in majesty.
The little children gather shells in glee;
Two lovers, lost in admiration, gaze.
And lisp, and dream, and picture coming days
When life shall be as sweet as sweet can be.
A little on, the sire and matron move.
Musing o'er all the past in tender mood.
Feeling so fully that the Lord is good.
And that, compared with His eternal love.
The vast, sublime, and calm or stormy sea.
Is but a drop, lost in immensity!
Oh, the glory, highest glory!
Glory of creation's King;
Oh, the story, sweetest story,
Such as angels cannot sing.
Song of songs, redemption, heaven,
Gladness fills the earth and air.
Bliss of God to man is given.
Measured here, unmeasured there.
Earth, I have loved thee well -
A leaf, a flower, could swell
The tides of joy which surge me through and through;
Each morning brought its love.
Soft droppings from above.
Life's richest blessings, pure as crystal dew.
How like the years, O sea!
Sometimes the light smiles on thy bosom deep,
Sometimes rude tempests o'er thy bosom sweep.
Sometimes soft songs lull thee to quiet sleep;
And all thy moods to me,
Are like this human life, filled in with grief,
Till tides of resignation bring relief.
And I am so like thee!
Not in thy greatness! I am very small;
Not in thy power! I am weakness all;
Not in thy grandeur! I have none at all;
And yet, thou wondrous sea.
As in a mirror, I can clearly trace.
My likeness, in thy almost human face.
But yesterday, all light,
To-day I seem as if I never smiled.
Just then, all calm, now, as if never mild.
So lately pure, now everything defiled.
The day is turned to night.
The winds unresting through my midnight sigh,
And tempests howl athwart my spirit's sky.
Then high resolves were made!
Resolves which rushed like billows to the shore,
Resolves renewed and uttered o'er and o'er!
Then, of their weight, sunk, broken evermore!
My foes made me afraid.
And coward like, my little strength gave way,
And high resolves, like billows, broke in spray.
Hope spread her cheerful sails!
And I launched out upon the smiling deep;
But soon harsh tempests down upon me sweep;
Till bowed and broken pride began to weep;
And hurried by the gales,
Or shoreward roughly tossed with giant's grip,
I lay, like Augments of a broken ship.
So ruins round me lie!
So lie the years, driftwood along the lea,
So spars and vows are worked up by the sea;
Then touched by higher tides, roll sluggishly;
Through all the air a cry,
Entoned with mystic murmurs vague and dim,
Away from God, and sad for want of Him.
And so the years go by!
But shall another thus be spent by me?
Eternal God, lift my soul to thee!
Grant undergirdings of eternity.
Draw, loadstone of the sky,
And howsoever life's stormy billows roll,
Be chart, helm, compass, pilot to my soul!