Be inspired and uplifted by our collection of Christian famous poems. Poetry has been written for centuries that embraces the Christian faith. Many poems offer praise and worship to God and throughout the Bible, you can
see poetry, especially in the Book of Psalms.
Christianity has inspired many poets. From many famous poems, hymns have been formed. We hope these poems inspire you!
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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 . . . . .
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!