Christian Poems and Hymns: Collection 4
compiled by Stephen Ross

The birds without barn and storehouse are fed;
From them let us learn to trust for our bread:
His saints what is fitting shall ne'er be denied,
So long as 'tis written, The Lord will provide.

We may, like the ships, by tempests be tossed
On perilous deeps, but need not be lost:
Though Satan enrages the wind and the tide,
Yet scripture engages, The Lord will provide.

His call we'll obey, like Abram of old;
We know not the way, but faith makes us bold;
For though we are strangers, we have a good guide,
And trust in all dangers, The Lord will provide.

When Satan appears to stop up our path,
And fills us with fears, we triumph by faith:
He cannot take from us (though oft he has tried)
The heart-cheering promise, The Lord will provide.

He tells us we're weak, our hope is in vain,
The good that we seek, we ne'er shall obtain;
But when such suggestions our graces have tried
This answers all questions, The Lord will provide.

No strength of our own, nor goodness we claim,
Our trust is all thrown on Jesus's name;
In this our strong tower for safety we hide;
The Lord is our power, The Lord will provide.

When life sinks apace, and death is in view,
The word of his grace shall comfort us through;
Not fearing nor doubting with Christ on our side,
We hope to die shouting, The Lord will provide.
  —John Newton (1725-1807)

Smooth let it be, or rough,
It still will be the best;
Winding or straight, it leads
Right onward to Thy rest.

I dare not choose my lot:
I would not, if I might;
Choose Thou for me, my God,
So shall I walk aright.

The kingdom that I seek
Is Thine: so let the way
That leads to it be Thine,
Else I must surely stray.

Choose Thou for me my friends,
My sickness or my health;
Choose Thou my cares for me,
My poverty or wealth.

Not mine, not mine the choice,
In things or great or small;
Be Thou my Guide, my Strength,
My Wisdom, and my All.
  —Horatius Bonar (1808-1889)

Through manifold temptation,
My soul holds on its course;
Christ's mighty intercession
Alone is my resource;
My gracious High Priest's pleadings,
Who on the cross did bleed,
Bring down God's grace and blessings
And help in hour of need.

'Twas God's most gracious favor
That gave His Son to die,
To live our Intercessor,
To plead for us on high.
O Jesus, blessed Savior,
Who soon for us will come,
Redemption's work completed,
Our battle fought, and won.
  —A. P. Cecil (1841-1889)

Thy work alone, O Christ,
can ease this weight of sin;
Thy blood alone, O Lamb of God,
can give me peace within.
Thy love to me, O God, not mine,
O Lord, to Thee,
can rid me of the dark unrest,
and set my spirit free.

Thy grace alone, O God,
to me can pardon speak;
Thy pow'r alone, O Son of God,
can this sore bondage break.
I bless the Christ of God;
I rest on love divine;
and with unfalt'ring lip and heart,
I call this Saviour mine.
  —Horatius Bonar (1808-1889)

Peace with God! the blood in Heave
Speaks of pardon now to me:
Peace with God! the Lord is risen!
Righteousness now counts me free.

Peace with God is Christ in glory;
God is just, and God is love;
Jesus died to tell the story,
Foes to bring to God above.

Now, free access to the Father,
Through the Christ of God, we have;
By the Spirit here abiding,
Promise of the Father’s love.

Jesus, Savior, we adore Thee!
Christ of God, anointed Son!
We confess Thee, Lord of glory,
Fruits of victory Thou hast won!
  —A. P. Cecil (1841-1889)

Refrain:
Is it not wonderful, is it not wonderful
Jesus so gracious should be?
Yes, it is wonderful, strange and so wonderful,
That He should pardon and save even me!

Heart of mine never could know
Jesus such peace could bestow,
Till the dear Saviour show'd me His favor,
Cleansed my heart whiter than snow.

Once I was full of all sin,
Now, thro’ the blood, I am clean;
Willing to save me, pardon He gave me,
And I am happy within.

Long I resisted His grace,
In my heart gave Him no place,
But Jesus sought me till He had bro't me,
Penitent, seeking His face.

He doth my new heart control,
Cleansing and keeping me whole,
Banishing sadness, with joy and gladness
Filling and thrilling my soul.
  —Elisha A. Hoffman (1839-1929)

Our wants are known to Jesus;
All fulness dwells in Him:
He healeth all diseases,
Who did our souls redeem.
We tell our griefs to Jesus,
Our burdens and our cares;
He from them all releases,
Who all our sorrow shares.

We love the name of Jesus,
The Christ of God, the Lord;
Like fragrance on the breezes,
His name is spread abroad.
We long to be with Jesus,
With all the ransomed throng,
For ever sing His praises,
The one eternal song.
  —Horatius Bonar (1808-1889)

That rich atoning blood,
Which sprinkled round we see,
Provides for those who come to God
An all prevailing plea.

My soul, ask what thou wilt;
Thou canst not be too bold;
Since his own blood for thee he spilt,
What else can he withhold?

Thine image, Lord, bestow,
Thy presence and thy love;
I ask to serve thee here below,
And reign with thee above.

Teach me to live by faith,
Conform my will to thine;
Let me victorious be in death,
And then in glory shine.
  —John Newton (1725-1807)

Looking unto Jesus—
  Through the darkness night;
If your lamp is flickering,
  He will make it bright.
Look away to Jesus,
  And with patience run
The race set before you,
  Till the crown is won.

Looking unto Jesus,
  Soon He'll come again:
Come again to take you
  With Him to reign.
Look still off to Jesus,
  Look still right away—
Till the gladsome dawning,
  Of that glorious day.
  —Author unknown

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

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 has made all things well.
  —Cecil Frances Alexander (1818-1895)
from Hymns for Little Children.

We may not know, we cannot tell
  What pains He had to bear,
But we believe it was for us,
  He hung and suffered there.

He died that we might be forgiven,
  He died to make us good,
That we might go at last to Heaven,
  Saved by His precious Blood.

There was no other good enough
  To pay the price of sin,
He only could unlock the gate
  Of Heaven, and let us in.

O, dearly, dearly has He loved.
  And we must love Him too,
And trust in His redeeming Blood,
  And try His works to do.
  —Cecil Frances Alexander (1818-1895)
from Hymns for Little Children.

Refrain:
Judgment! all your sins confronting,
Judgment! with no help or guide.
Judgment! all your record facing;
Judgment! with no place to hide.

The broken laws, the sins forgot,
Will meet you on that day,
And from the record written there
You cannot turn away.

God’s mercy will be ended then,
The day of grace be done;
The time you might have chosen life
Will be forever gone.

But, hark! the door stands open wide,
God’s Spirit still is nigh;
In gentle tones the Savior pleads,
Oh, turn! why will ye die?
  —J. Wilbur Chapman (1859-1918)

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