(5) Favorite Hymns & Poems
O give us homes built firm upon the Savior,
Where Christ is Head and Counsellor and Guide;
Where every child is Taught His love and favor
And gives his heart to Christ, the crucified:
How sweet to know that though his footsteps waver
His faithful Lord is walking by his side!
O give us homes with godly fathers, mothers,
Who always place their hope and trust in Him;
Whose tender patience turmoil never bothers,
Whose calm and courage trouble cannot dim;
A home where each finds joy in serving others,
And love still shines, tho days be dark and grim.
O Lord, our God, our homes are Thine forever!
We trust to Thee their problems, toil, and care;
Their bonds of love no enemy can sever
If Thou art always Lord and Master there:
Be Thou the center of our least endeavor-
Be Thou our Guest, our hearts and homes to share.
In Christ, Our Liberty
By Lester Bork
We bind ourselves in freedom’s chains;
The cross has set us free.
God’s anvil forged each link with love,
In Christ, our liberty.
Tho’ creeds and laws imposed by pow’r
May mock equality,
Our trust in Christ and Christ alone
Will keep our spirits free.
We have no need of priest or king
To intercede for souls;
To live for Christ our covenant,
To die to self our goal.
His call to us is servanthood,
Not false humility.
Until we die to love of self,
We are not truly free.
Now free in Christ it’s time to stand,
It’s time to stand and cry
That freedom will not live beyond
Our willingness to die.
We Stand United in the Truth
By Philip M. Young
We stand united in the truth which God bestows on all:
Salvation as God’s gift of grace, a priesthood and a call.
A freedom that has stood in spite of tyranny and sword,
Upon a common ground of faith in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Our earthly empires grow and thrive; our mortal visions soar;
But earth’s foundations turn to dust, the builder’s dream no more.
So may we build upon the Rock, and stand with hearts restored,
To witness to a living faith in Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Need of the Hour
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
What does our country need? Not armies standing
With sabers gleaming ready for the fight;
Not increased navies, skillful and commanding;
To bound the waters with an iron might;
Not haughty men with glutted purses trying
To purchase souls, and keep the power of the place;
Not jeweled dolls with one another vying
For palms of beauty, elegance, and grace.
But we want women, strong of soul, yet lowly
With that rare meekness, born of gentleness;
Women whose lives are pure and clean and holy,
The women whom all little children bless;
Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other,
With finest scorn for all things low and mean;
Women who hold the names of wife and mother
Far nobler than the title of a queen.
Oh! These are they who mould the men of story,
These mothers, oftime shorn of grace and youth,
Who, worn and weary, ask no greater glory
Than making some young soul the home of truth;
Who sow in hearts all fallow for the sowing
The seeds of virtue and of scorn for sin,
And, patient, watch the beauteous harvest growing
And weed out tares which crafty hands cast in.
Women who do not hold the gift of beauty
As some rare treasure to be bought and sold,
But guard it as a precious aid to duty—
The outer framing of the inner gold;
Women who, low above their cradles bending,
Let flattery’s voice go by, and give no heed,
While their pure prayers like incense are ascending
These are our country’s pride, our country’s need.
What Think Ye of Christ?
Vital Knowledge of Christ. — Matthew 22:42
What think you of Christ is the test,
To try both your state and your scheme;
You cannot be right in the rest,
Unless you think rightly of Him.
As Jesus appears in your view,
As he is beloved or not;
So God is disposed to you,
And mercy or wrath are your lot.
Some take him a creature to be,
A man or an angel at most:
Sure these have not feelings like me,
Nor know themselves wretched and lost.
So guilty, so helpless am I,
I durst not confide in His blood,
Nor on his protection rely,
Unless I were sure He is God.
Some call him a Saviour in word,
But mix their own works with his plan
And hope He His help will afford,
When they have done all that they can:
If doings prove rather too light,
(A little, they own, they may fail),
They purpose to make up full weight
By casting His name in the scale.
Some style Him the Pearl of great price,
And say He’s the Fountain of joys;
Yet feed upon folly and vice,
And cleave to the world and its toys:
Like Judas the Saviour they kiss,
And while they salute Him, betray;
Ah! what will profession like this
Avail in His terrible day?
If asked what of Jesus I think,
Though still my best thoughts are but poor,
I say, He’s my meat and my drink,
My Life and my Strength, and my Store;
My Shepherd my Husband, my Friend,
My Saviour from sin and from thrall;
My Hope from beginning to end,
My Portion, my Lord, and my All.
REBELS by Anonymous
Rebels! ‘t is a holy name!
The name our fathers bore,
When battling in the cause of Right,
Against the tyrant in his might,
In the dark days of yore.
Rebels! ‘t is our family name!
Our father, Washington,
Was the arch-rebel in the fight,
And gave the name to use,–a right
Of father unto son.
Rebels! ‘t is our given name!
Our mother, Liberty,
Received the title with her fame,
In days of grief, of fear, and shame,
When at her breast were we.
Rebels! ‘t is our sealed name!
A baptism of blood!
The war–aye, and the din of strife–
The fearful contest, life for life–
The mingled crimson flood.
Rebels! ‘t is a patriot’s name!
In struggles it was given;
We bore it then when tyrants raved
And through their curses ‘t was engraved
On the doomsday-book of heaven.
Rebels! ‘t is our fighting name!
For peace rules o’er the land,
Until they speak of craven woe–
Until our rights receive a blow,
From foe’s or brother’s hand.
Rebels! ‘t is our dying name!
For, although life is dear,
Yet, freemen born and freemen bred,
We’d rather live as freemen dead,
Than live in slavish fear.
Then call us rebels if you will–
We glory in the name;
For bending under unjust laws,
And swearing faith to an unjust cause,
We count a greater shame.