Christian Poems of AFFLICTION

(Various authors)

"No chance hath brought this ill to me; 'Tis God's own hand, so let it be; He seeth what I cannot see. There is a need-be for each pain, and He one day will make it plain, that earthly loss is Heavenly gain!

"Like as a piece of tapestry viewed from the back appears to be naught but threads tangled hopelessly; but in the front a picture fair rewards the Worker for His care, proving His skill and patience rare.

"Thou art the Workman, I the frame - perfect Thine Image on the same!" --Anonomous (Ps 119:167-175)

Afflictions, though they seem severe;
In mercy oft are sent;
They stopped the prodigal’s career,
And forced him to repent.

Although he no relentings felt
Till he had spent his store;
His stubborn heart began to melt
When famine pinched him sore.

“What have I gained by sin, he said,
But hunger, shame, and fear;
My father’s house abounds with bread,
While I am starving here.

I’ll go, and tell him all I’ve done,
And fall before his face
Unworthy to be called his son,
I’ll seek a servant’s place.”

His father saw him coming back,
He saw, and ran, and smiled;
And threw his arms around the neck
Of his rebellious child.

“Father, I’ve sinned—but O forgive!”
I’ve heard enough, he said,
Rejoice my house, my son’s alive,
For whom I mourned as dead.

Now let the fatted calf be slain,
And spread the news around;
My son was dead, but lives again,
Was lost, but now is found.

’Tis thus the Lord His love reveals,
To call poor sinners home;
More than a father’s love He feels,
And welcomes all that come. --John Newton, 1779

Go bury thy sorrow, the world hath its share; Go bury it deeply, go hide it with care. Go think of it calmly, when curtained by night; Go tell it to Jesus, and all will be right.

Go tell it to Jesus, He knoweth thy grief; Go tell it to Jesus, He’ll send thee relief; Go gather the sunshine He sheds on the way: He’ll lighten thy burden—Go, weary one, pray.

Hearts growing aweary with heavier woe Now droop ’mid the darkness—Go, comfort them, go! Go bury thy sorrow, let others be blessed; Go give them the sunshine, tell Jesus the rest. --Ira Sankey, 1871

I must tell Jesus all of my trials; I cannot bear these burdens alone; In my distress He kindly will help me; He ever loves and cares for His own.

I must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus! I cannot bear my burdens alone; I must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus! Jesus can help me, Jesus alone.

I must tell Jesus all of my troubles; He is a kind, compassionate friend; If I but ask Him, He will deliver, Make of my troubles quickly an end.

Tempted and tried, I need a great Savior; One Who can help my burdens to bear; I must tell Jesus, I must tell Jesus; He all my cares and sorrows will share.

O how the world to evil allures me! O how my heart is tempted to sin! I must tell Jesus, and He will help me Over the world the victory to win. -- Elisha Albright Hoffman, 1894

In the hour of trial, Jesus, plead for me, Lest by base denial I depart from Thee. When Thou seest me waver, with a look recall, Nor for fear or favor suffer me to fall.

With forbidden pleasures would this vain world charm, Or its sordid treasures spread to work me harm, Bring to my remembrance sad Gethsemane, Or, in darker semblance, cross-crowned Calvary.

Should Thy mercy send me sorrow, toil and woe, Or should pain attend me on my path below, Grant that I may never fail Thy hand to see; Grant that I may ever cast my care on Thee.

When my last hour cometh, fraught with strife and pain, When my dust returneth to the dust again, On Thy truth relying, through that mortal strife, Jesus, take me, dying, to eternal life. --James Montgomery, 1834

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blest assurance control, That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul, It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul. --Horatio Gates Spafford, 1873

We journey through a vale of tears, By many a cloud o’ercast; And worldly cares and worldly fears, Go with us to the last.

Not to the last! Thy Word hath said, Could we but read aright, “Poor pilgrim, lift in hope thy head, At eve it shall be light!”

Though earthborn shadows now may shroud Thy thorny path awhile, God’s blessèd Word can part each cloud, And bid the sunshine smile.

Only believe, in living faith, His love and power divine; And ere thy sun shall set in death, His light shall round thee shine.

When tempest clouds are dark on high, His bow of love and peace Shines sweetly in the vaulted sky, A pledge that storms shall cease.

Hold on thy way, with hope unchilled, By faith and not by sight, And thou shalt own His Word fulfilled, “At eve it shall be light.” --Bernard Barton (1784-1849)

Upon a wide and stormy sea, Thou’rt sailing to eternity, And thy great Admiral orders thee: “Sail on! Sail on! Sail on!”

Art far from shore, and weary worn, The sky o’ercast, thy canvas torn? Hark ye! a voice to thee is borne: “Sail on! Sail on! Sail on!”

Do comrades tremble and refuse To further dare the taunting hues? No other course is thine to choose, “Sail on! Sail on! Sail on!”

Do snarling waves thy craft assail? Art pow’rless, drifting with the gale? Take heart! God’s Word shall never fail. “Sail on! Sail on! Sail on!”

Sail on! Sail on! The storms will soon be past, The darkness will not always last; Sail on! Sail on! God lives and He commands: “Sail on! Sail on!” -- Charles Hutchinson Gabriel, 1908

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