We have Famous Christian Poems, Poems about God and Modern Christian poems too.
Poems by George Matheson (1842-1906)
“O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go”
O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O light that flowest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.
O joy that sleekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.
"Make me a Captive"
Make me a captive, Lord,
And then I shall be free:
Force me to render up my sword,
And I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life's alarms
When by myself I stand:
Imprison me within thine arms,
And strong shall be my hand.
My heart is weak and poor
Until it master find:
It has no spring of action sure,
It varies with the wind:
It cannot freely move
Till thou hast wrought its chain;
Enslave it with thy matchless love,
And deathless it shall reign.
My power is faint and low
Till I have learned to serve:
It wants the needed fire to glow,
It wants the breeze to nerve;
It cannot drive the world
Until itself be driven;
Its flag can only be unfurled
When Thou shalt breathe from heaven.
My will is not my own
Till thou hast made it thine;
If it would reach a monarch's throne
It must its crown resign;
It only stands unbent
Amid the clashing strife,
When on thy bosom it has leant
And found in thee its life.
"Make me a Captive"
Make me a captive, Lord,
And then I shall be free:
Force me to render up my sword,
And I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life's alarms
When by myself I stand:
Imprison me within thine arms,
And strong shall be my hand.
My heart is weak and poor
Until it master find:
It has no spring of action sure,
It varies with the wind:
It cannot freely move
Till thou hast wrought its chain;
Enslave it with thy matchless love,
And deathless it shall reign.
My power is faint and low
Till I have learned to serve:
It wants the needed fire to glow,
It wants the breeze to nerve;
It cannot drive the world
Until itself be driven;
Its flag can only be unfurled
When Thou shalt breathe from heaven.
My will is not my own
Till thou hast made it thine;
If it would reach a monarch's throne
It must its crown resign;
It only stands unbent
Amid the clashing strife,
When on thy bosom it has leant
And found in thee its life.
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