24 Christian Poems About Sin, Repentance and God’s Forgiveness

When marshaled on the nightly plain,
The glittering host bestud the sky,
One star alone, of all the train,
Can fix the sinner’s wandering eye.

Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks,
From every host, from every gem;
But one alone the Saviour speaks—
It is the Star of Bethlehem.

Once on the raging seas I rode;
The storm was loud, the night was dark,
The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed
The wind that tossed my foundering bark.

Deep horror then my vitals froze;
Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem;
When suddenly a star arose—
It was the Star of Bethlehem.

It was my guide, my light, my all;
It bade my dark forebodings cease;
And through the storm and danger’s thrall,
It led me to the port of peace.

Now safely moored, my perils o’er,
I’ll sing, first in night’s diadem,
For ever, and for evermore,
The Star—the Star of Bethlehem.

Faith adds new charms to earthly bliss,
And saves us from its snares;
It yields support in all our toils,
And softens all our cares.

The wounded conscience knows its power
The healing balm to give;
That balm the saddest heart can cheer,
And make the dying live.

Unvailing wide the heavenly world,
Where endless pleasures reign,
It bids us seek our portion there,
Nor bids us seek in vain.

There, still unshaken, would we rest
Till this frail body dies;
And then, on faith’s triumphant wing,
To endless glory rise.

O for a faith that will not shrink,
Though pressed by every foe,
That will not tremble on the brink
Of any earthly woe!

That will not murmur nor complain
Beneath the chastening rod,
But, in the hour of grief or pain,
Will lean upon its God;

A faith that shines more bright and clear
When tempests rage without;
That, when in danger, knows no fear,
In darkness feels no doubt;

That bears, unmoved, the world’s dread frown,
Nor heeds its scornful smile;
That seas of trouble can not drown,
Nor Satan’s arts beguile.

A faith that keeps the narrow way
Till life’s last hour is fled,
And with a pure and heavenly ray,
Lights up a dying bed.

Lord, give us such a faith as this;
And then, whate’er may come,
We’ll taste, e’en here, the hallowed bliss
Of an eternal home.

Mistaken souls, that dream of heaven,
And make their empty boast
Of inward joys, and sins forgiven,
While they are slaves to lust!

How vain are fancy’s airy flights,
If faith be cold and dead!
None but a living power unites
To Christ, the living Head.

’Tis faith that purifies the heart;
’Tis faith that works by love;
That bids all sinful joys depart,
And lifts the thoughts above.

Faith must obey our Father’s will,
As well as trust his grace;
A pardoning God requires us still
To walk in all his ways.

This faith shall every fear control
By its celestial power,
With holy triumph fill the soul
In death’s approaching hour.