“And lest the shadow of a spot
Should on my soul be found,
He took the robe the Savior wrought,
And cast it all around.”
Category: poem
Do Not Fear
“Launched on the tide of God’s eternal love,
His ark beneath you, and His light above,
What can you fear? Be still, my soul, be still!
Your God has never left you–never will.”
Zion’s Pilgrim
“A captive here, and far from home,
For Zion’s sacred courts I sigh:
“There the ransomed nations come,
And see the Savior ‘eye to eye.’
“While here, I walk on hostile ground;
The few that I can call my friends
Are, like myself, with fetters bound,
And weariness my path attends.
“But we shall soon behold the day
When Zion’s children shall return;
Our sorrows then shall flee away,
And we shall never, never mourn.
“The hope that such a day will come
Makes e’en the captive’s portion sweet;
Though now we’re distant far from home
In Zion soon we all shall meet.”
Communion With God
“Like the low murmur of the secret stream,
Which through dark alders winds its shaded way,
My suppliant voice is heard,—ah, do not deem
That on vain toys I throw my hours away!
“In the recesses of the forest valley,
On the wild mountain, on the verdant sod,
Where the fresh breezes of the morn prevail,
I wander lonely, communing with God.
“When the faint sickness of a wounded heart
Creeps in cold shudd’rings through my sinking frame,
I turn to You,—that holy peace impart,
Which soothes the invokers of Your dreadful name.
“O all-pervading Spirit! Sacred beam!
Parent of life and light! Eternal Power!
Grant me through obvious clouds one transient gleam
Of Your bright essence in my dying hour!”
We Are His
“My God, the spring of all my joys,
The life of my delights,
The glory of my brightest days,
The comfort of my nights.
“In darkest shades if He appear,
My dawning is begun;
He is my soul’s sweet morning Star,
And He my rising Sun.
The opening heavens around me shine,
With beams of sacred bliss,
While Jesus shows His heart is mine,
And whispers, I am His.”
Oh to Commune With God
“Far from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult far;
From scenes where Satan wages still
His most successful war.
“The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree,
And scenes of Your sweet bounty made
For those who follow Thee.
“There, if Your Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her calm abode,
Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love,
She communes with her God!”
The Wandering Sheep
“Jesus, let Your pitying eye
Call back a wandering sheep;
False to You like Peter, I
Would gladly like Peter weep.
Let me be by grace restored;
On me be all patience shown;
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break this heart of stone.
“Look as when Your grace beheld
The harlot in distress,
Dried her tears, her pardon sealed,
And bade her go in peace;
“Foul, like her, and self-abhorred,
I at Your feet for mercy groan:
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break this heart of stone.
“Look as when, condemned for them,
You did Your followers see;
‘Daughters of Jerusalem!
Weep for yourselves, not me.’
And am I by my God deplored,
And shall I not myself bemoan?
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break this heart of stone.
“Look as when Your languid eye
Was closed that we might live:
‘Father,’ (at the point to die
My Savior cried,) ‘forgive;’
Surely with that dying word,
He turns, and looks, and cries, ‘Tis done!’
O my gracious, bleeding Lord,
You break my heart of stone!”
A Painted Dream
“Life is like a painted dream;
Like the rapid summer stream;
Like the fleeting meteor’s ray;
Like the shortest winter’s day;
Like the fitful breeze that sighs;
Like the waning flame that dies;
Darting, dazzling on the eye;
Fading in eternity.”
He Died For Me
“Jesus, Your blood and righteousness,
My beauty are, my glorious dress;
Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,
With joy shall I lift up my head.
“When from the dust of death I rise,
To take my mansion in the skies,
Even then shall this be all my plea–
Jesus has lived and died for me.”
My Jesus
“I’ll not leave Jesus– never, never!
Ah! what can more precious be?
Rest, and joy, and light are ever
In his hand to give to me.
All things that can satisfy,
Having Jesus, these have I.”
Love has bound me fast to him,
I am his, and he is mine;
Daily I for pardon ask him,
Answers he with peace divine.
On that rock my trust is laid,
And I rest beneath its shade.
Without Jesus, earth would weary,
Seem almost like hell to me;
But if Jesus I have near me,
Earth is almost heaven to me.
Am I hungry? He does give
Bread on which my soul does live.
Oh! how light upon my shoulder
Lies my cross, now grown so small.
For the Lord is my upholder,
Fits it to me, softens all.
Neither shall it always stay–
Patience! it will pass away!”
The Octavius Winslow Archive 