IMMANUEL(God with us!)
When once I mourned a load of sin;
When conscience felt a wound within;
When all my works were thrown away;
When on my knees I knelt to pray,
Then, blissful hour, remembered well,
I learned Thy love, Immanuel.
When storms of sorrow toss my soul;
When waves of care around me roll;
When comforts sink, when joys shall flee;
When hopeless griefs shall gape for me,
One word the tempest's rage shall quell-
That word, Thy name, Immanuel.
When for the truth I suffer shame;
When foes pour scandal on my name;
When cruel taunts and jeers abound;
When "Bulls of Bashan" gird me round,
Secure within Thy tower I'll dwell--
That tower, Thy grace, Immanuel.
When hell enraged lifts up her roar;
When Satan stops my path before;
When fiends rejoice and wait my end;
When legioned hosts their arrows send,
Fear not, my soul, but hurl at hell
Thy battle-cry, Immanuel.
When down the hill of life I go;
When o'er my feet death's waters flow;
When in the deep'ning flood I sink;
When friends stand weeping on the brink,
I'll mingle with my last farewell
Thy lovely name, Immanuel.
When tears are banished from mine eye;
When fairer worlds than these are nigh;
When heaven shall fill my ravished sight;
When I shall bathe in sweet delight,
One joy all joys shall far excel,
To see Thy face, Immanuel.
(THIS POEM WAS WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF 18
BY CHARLES SPURGEON, WHO BEGAN
PREACHING IN A CHURCH OF 230 MEMBERS AT
THE AGE OF 19. 38 YEARS LATER, HE WAS STILL
THERE, BUT WITH 5,300 MEMBERS!
THE PICTURE ABOVE IS OF THE "PRINCE OF
PREACHERS" AT THE AGE OF 19.
HEROES OF THE FAITH NEVER DIE!!)
When foes pour scandal on my name;
When cruel taunts and jeers abound;
When "Bulls of Bashan" gird me round,
Secure within Thy tower I'll dwell--
That tower, Thy grace, Immanuel.
When hell enraged lifts up her roar;
When Satan stops my path before;
When fiends rejoice and wait my end;
When legioned hosts their arrows send,
Fear not, my soul, but hurl at hell
Thy battle-cry, Immanuel.
When down the hill of life I go;
When o'er my feet death's waters flow;
When in the deep'ning flood I sink;
When friends stand weeping on the brink,
I'll mingle with my last farewell
Thy lovely name, Immanuel.
When tears are banished from mine eye;
When fairer worlds than these are nigh;
When heaven shall fill my ravished sight;
When I shall bathe in sweet delight,
One joy all joys shall far excel,
To see Thy face, Immanuel.
(THIS POEM WAS WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF 18
BY CHARLES SPURGEON, WHO BEGAN
PREACHING IN A CHURCH OF 230 MEMBERS AT
THE AGE OF 19. 38 YEARS LATER, HE WAS STILL
THERE, BUT WITH 5,300 MEMBERS!
THE PICTURE ABOVE IS OF THE "PRINCE OF
PREACHERS" AT THE AGE OF 19.
HEROES OF THE FAITH NEVER DIE!!)
0 comments:
Post a Comment