Poet: Thomas Hood
There is a cry upon the earth,
A cry of want and woe,
It rises from our cities vast,
From hamlets lone and low;
Where roll our commerce-laden waves,
Where fields of verdure spread,
Ascends the still unanswered prayer
Give us our daily bread.
The voice of wasted youth is there
Of childhood early chilled ;
Of famine, ruined homes, and hopes
Which time can ne'er rebuild ;
Of age, upon whose downward way
No genial lights are shed;
All all are blended in the prayer
Give us our daily bread.
O! fair and fresh the early spring
Her budding wreath displays,
To all the wide earth promising
The joy of harvest days ;
Yet many a waste of wavy gold
Hath bent above the dead ;
Then let the living share it too
Give us our daily bread.
Of old a nation's cry shook down
The sword-defying wall,
And ours may reach the mercy-seat,
Though not the lordly hall.
God of the Corn! shall man restrain
Thy blessings, freely shed?
O! look upon the isles at last
Give us our daily bread.
Poet: C. A. Lynch
Sometimes we pray but God won't give consent;
And even then trust His plans are meant
For our greater good, despite our cries,
Though circumstances be bitter or disguised.
Though we don't comprehend His ways or be clear
Let us humbly thank Him for all He'll do here.
Should disappointment ensue in what's revealed
Yet glory will come from the plans He's sealed.
Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
Father, we meet, a little band,
In Jesus's name to pray:
The blessing of thy grace command,
And turn us not away.
We would be more like him we love,
And less to sin inclined:
Our best affections place above,
And peace and pardon find.
When Jesus deigns to be our guest,
How sweet the moments fly!
True love beams brightly in the breast,
And all "see eye to eye."
More poems to inspire:
Poems On Faith
Poems About God
Trust God Poems
Poems About Giving Thanks To God
Poet: Berton Braley
Lord, let me live like a Regular Man,
With Regular friends and true;
Let me play the game on a Regular plan
And play it that way all through ;
Let me win or lose with a Regular smile
And never be known to whine,
For that is a "Regular Fellow's" style
And I want to make it mine!
Oh, give me a Regular chance in life,
The same as the rest, I pray,
And give me a Regular Girl for wife
To help me along the way;
Let us know the lot of humanity,
Its regular woes and joys,
And raise a Regular family
Of Regular girls and boys!
Let me live to a Regular good old age,
With Regular snow-white hair,
Having done my labor and earned my wage
And played my game for fair;
And so at last when the people scan
My face on its peaceful bier,
They'll say, "Well, he was a Regular Man!"
And drop a Regular tear!
Poet: Theodore Parker
Father, I will not ask for wealth or fame,
Tho� once they would have joyed my carnal sense;
I shudder not to bear a hated name,
Wanting all wealth, myself my sole defence.
But give me, Lord, eyes to behold the truth;
A seeing sense that knows the eternal right;
A heart with pity filled, and gentlest ruth;
A manly faith that makes all darkness light.
Give me the power to labor for mankind ;
Make me the mouth of such as cannot speak;
Eyes let me be to groping men and blind;
A conscience to the base; and to the weak
Let me be hands and feet; and to the foolish, mind;
And lead still further on such as Thy kingdom seek.
Poet: M. Betham Edward
God make my life a little light,
Within the world to glow
A tiny flame that burneth bright,
Wherever I may go.
God make my life a little flower,
That bringeth joy to all,
Content to bloom in native bower,
Although its place be small.
God make my life a little song,
That comforteth the sad,
That helpeth others to be strong,
And makes the singer glad.
Prayer is powerful, be reminded of this in these quotes:
Prayer Quotes
Christian Quotes
Poet: Charlotte Elliott
My God, my Father, while I stray
Far from my home, on life's rough way,
O teach me from my heart to say,
"Thy will be done!"
Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Let me "be still," and murmur not;
O breathe the prayer divinely taught,
"Thy will be done!"
What though in lonely grief I sigh
For friends beloved, no longer nigh,
Submissive still would I reply
"Thy will be done!"
Though thou hast called me to resign
What most I prized, it ne'er was mine;
I have but yielded what was thine;
"Thy will be done!"
Should grief or sickness waste away
My life in premature decay;
My Father! still I strive to say,
"Thy will be done!"
Let but my fainting heart be blest
With thy sweet Spirit for its guest;
My God! to thee I leave the rest:
"Thy will be done!"
Renew my will from day to day!
Blend it with thine; and take away
All that now makes it hard to say,
"Thy will be done!"
Then, when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer oft mixed with tears before,
I'll sing upon a happier shore:
"Thy will be done!"
Poet: Lucy P. Scott
Dear Father help me to be good.
Help me to want to try.
Help me to tell the truth, it's hard
Never to tell a lie.
Help me to say the kindest things,
To brave and honest be.
To help in every way I can
All those who so love me.
Teach me to love my friends enough
Unselfishness to learn,
And when things are too hard to bear.
Always to You to turn.
Amen.
This poem would be a wonderful poem to pray each morning to help us to be a better person each day, doing all that we can to make this world a better place. It needs all the help it can get but what better way to help it than by spreading God's love in us to the world all around us.
Poet: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Let me to-day do something that shall take
A little sadness from the world's vast store,
And may I be so favored as to make
Of joy's too scanty sum a little more.
Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed
Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend;
Nor would I pass, unseeing, worthy need.
Or sin by silence when I should defend.
However meager be my worldly wealth
Let me give something that shall aid my kind,
A word of courage, or a thought of health,
Dropped as I pass for troubled hearts to find.
Let me to-night look back across the span
'Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say �
Because of some good act to beast or man �
"The world is better that I lived to-day."
Poet: Bessie Shaffer
I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith, and love and every grace,
Might more of His salvation know
And seek more earnestly His face.
'Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
And He, I trust, has answered prayer;
But it has been in such a way
As almost drove me to despair.
I hoped that in some favored hour
At once He'd answer my request;
And by His love's constraining power
Subdue my will and give me rest.
Instead of this. He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry powers of hell
Assault my soul in every part.
Yea, more, with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate 'my woe;
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed;
Blasted my gourd, and laid me low.
Lord, why is this? I, trembling, cried,
Wilt Thou pursue Thy worm to death?
'"Tis in this way," the Lord replied,
"I answered prayer for grace and faith.
"These inward trials I employ,
From self and pride to set thee free;
And blast the schemes of earthly joy.
That thou may'st seek thy all in Me."
