I Walked Today – A Poem by Leonard Ravenhill

I walked today as Dante walked
      In days of long ago; 
    I gasped through stench of this earth’s hell, 
      The air was filled with woe. 
    Men scarred with sin, in rags, ill shod, 
      Their face blank in despair,
    Their livid eyes burned into me- 
    I cried, “O Christ of Calvary, 
      Waken Thy church to care.” 
   
    I walked today where Christ would walk
      If He were here on earth; 
    The air was thick with discontent
      And dark with lack of mirth. 
    It seemed despair had carved each face,
      And greed and lust and vice
    Like chains, had bound resentful men. 
    “And, Lord,” I asked, “Oh when, Oh when
    Will Thy dear church revive again
      To seek Thy power in prayer?” 
   
    I walked today mid cultured vice
      And, as I walked, I wept. 
    I thought, Lord, of Thy sacrifice,
      And how Thy church has crept
    Along the road this past decade
      And slumbered in soft pews,
    While millions in their sinful plight
    Fall into hell’s eternal night. 
    O Christ, in mercy purge our blight; 
      Anoint Thy church to tell! 
   
    (Written after a visit to a drug area in a large city.)

 

Preach the Word – A Poem by Charles Wesley

Preach the Word

Shall I, for fear of mortal man,
The Spirit’s course in me restrain?
Or, undismayed, in deed and word
Be a true witness to my Lord

Awed by a mortal’s frown, shall I
Conceal the Word of God most high?
How then before Thee shall I dare
To stand, or how Thine anger bare

Shall I, to soothe the unholy throng
Soften Thy truths, and smooth my tongue?
To gain earth’s guilded toys, or flee
The Cross, endured my Lord, by Thee.

What then is he whose scorn I dread,
Whose wrath or hate makes me afraid?
A man? an heir of death, a slave
To sin! a bubble on the wave!

Yes! let men rage, since Thou wilt spread
Thy shadowing wings about my head;
Since in all pain Thy tender love
Will still my sure refreshment prove.

Give me Thy strength, O God of power;
Then let winds blow or tempest roar;
Thy faithful witness will I be;
‘Tis fixed; I can do all through Thee.

— Charles Wesley