20 Real Poems About Believing in God: Christian Faith and Trust

Jesus, my Saviour, look on me!
For I am weary and oppressed;
I come to cast myself on Thee;
Thou art my Rest.

Look down on me, for I am weak;
I feel the toilsome journey’s length;
Thine aid omnipotent I seek;
Thou art my Strength.

I am bewildered on my way;
Dark and tempestuous is the night;
Oh! shed thou forth some cheering ray;
Thou art my Light.

I hear the storms around me rise,
But when I dread the impending shock,
My spirit to her refuge flies;
Thou art my Rock.

When the accuser flings his darts,
I look to Thee–my terrors cease,–
Thy cross a hiding-place imparts;
Thou art my Peace.

Standing alone on Jordan’s brink,
In that tremendous, latest strife,
Thou wilt not suffer me to sink;
Thou art my Life.

Thou wilt my every want supply,
Even to the end, whate’er befall
Through life in death eternally;
Thou art my All.

He leads us on,
By paths we did not know
Upward He leads us, though our steps be slow,
Though oft we faint and falter on the way,
Though storms and darkness oft obscure the day,
Yet when the clouds are gone
We know He leads us on.

He leads us on
Through all the unquiet years;
Past all our dreamland hopes, and doubts, and fears
He guides our steps. Through all the tangled maze
Of sin, of sorrow, and o’erclouded days
We know His will is done;
And still He leads us on.

And He, at last,
After the weary strife–
After the restless fever we call life–
After the dreariness, the aching pain,
The wayward struggles which have proved in vain,
After our toils are past–
Will give us rest at last.

It is too calm to be a dream,
Too gravely sweet, too full of power,
Prayer changed to praise this very hour!
Yes, heard and answered! though it seem
Beyond the hope of yesterday,
Beyond the faith that dared to pray,
Yet not beyond the love that heard,
And not beyond the faithful word
On which each trembling prayer may rest,
And win the answer truly best.

Yes, heard and answered! sought and found!
I breathe a golden atmosphere
Of solemn joy, and seem to hear
Within, above, and all around,
The chime of deep cathedral bells,
An early herald peal that tells
A glorious Easter tide begun;
While yet are sparkling in the sun
Large rain drops of the night storm passed,
And days of Lent are gone at last.

To dream a troubled dream, and then awaken
To the soft gladness of a summer sky;
To dream ourselves alone, unloved, forsaken,
And then to wake ‘mid smiles, and love, and joy;

To look at evening on the storm’s rude motion,
The cloudy tumult of the fretted deep;
And then at day-burst upon that same ocean,
Soothed to the stillness of its stillest sleep–

So runs our course–so tells the church her story,
So to the end shall it be ever told;
Brief shame on earth, but after shame the glory,
That wanes not, dims not, never waxes old.

Lord Jesus, come, and end this troubled dreaming.
Dark shadows vanish, rosy twilight break!
Morn of the true and real, burst forth, calm-beaming.
Day of the beautiful, arise, awake!