Poet: C. A. Lynch
We travel now down the heavenly path
No force of nature can keep us back
In Heaven, our true home, we will be
Where the Lord of love dwells eternally.
The peace and joy that waits for us there
Will be beyond what we can compare.
For no mortal thought or fancy paints
The glory of Heaven's blissful plains.
Poet: Nellie Olson
I love to think of heaven bright,
Of Father and of Son,
Of holy angels gathered round
In worship at the throne.
I love to think of the redeemed
On yonder shining shore,
Whose hearts unite in songs of praise
As one, forevermore.
I love to think of heaven's love,
So full, so pure, so free;
That fount of love, so limitless,
That fills the Godhead, Three.
I see that stream of love divine
Poured forth from Calvary;
Its tender love enrapts my heart
Oh, cleansing stream for me!
I love to think of that great day
When saints in him shall rise,
Made glorious then in bodies new,
To join him in the skies.
I love to think of endless years
Spent with my Lord above,
And also with the blood-washed throng,
The ransomed ones I love.
I love to think of those I'll see
Of all the tribes of men;
Though varied is our lot on earth,
As one we'll worship then.
Made one through Christ - so when we come
To that eternal shore,
We'll sing of One, the worthy Lamb,
And praise him evermore.
Yet not enough that we should be
As one when we're in heaven,
But one on earth (the light now shines);
One heart, one name is given.
I hear the words of God's dear Son:
"Go into all the world
And tell of Heaven's redeeming love,
With banners wide unfurled.
"Go, tell the gospel theme of love
To every creature, pray;
Till all may know of that blest fount
That washes sins away."
For God all kindreds, nations, tribes,
Would gather into one,
Both high and low, and far and near -
All things in Christ the Son.
The Jew shall come and e'en the Greek;
The rich as well as poor;
The black, the brown, and yellow, too;
The Esquimaux, the Moor.
The red man from the Indian tribes,
The man that's white of face,
Those who've been free, as well as slaves,
Will there proclaim his grace.
He loves them all alike, we're told
(And so should you and I,
If we are joined as one with him
In blessed unity).
O ye of every country here,
How small indeed your place!
'Tis God the nations hath ordained
To show his wondrous grace.
For it can keep the willing heart
In any circumstance;
And thus weak creatures of the dust
His glory will enhance.
Go forth, O messenger of love,
To all the tribes of men,
And call all nations into One
From highway, hedge, and glen.
Let perfect oneness be our theme
(We stand upon the Word) -
One faith, one mind, one doctrine true,
One body, and one Lord.
And let us love as brethren dear
Nor look on outward part,
But judge with righteous judgment fair;
God looketh on the heart.
O love abounding, thou wilt draw
From every race the same,
A company diverse in ways,
Yet one in heart and name.
O brother and O sister dear,
Of whatever race thou art,
If we are joined in love on earth,
In heaven we'll never part.
More poems to inspire and give you hope:
Christian Poems Of Hope
Poems On Faith
Trust God Poems
The poem below could be a nice fit if you are looking for a Christian poem that discusses life on earth and our eternal life
and how the decisions you make during your life on earth will affect your eternal life.
This could also be used for some people as a poem of comfort for their lost loved ones.
Poet: Dr. T. Wilkins
In the sweet and golden sometime that is not so far away.
There will be a changed condition, and each dog will have his day.
In the rapid coming future there will come a day of grace
For the beings who have labored here to cultivate the race;
For the beings who have labored for a pittance for the rich.
But who never could get higher than the toiler's working niche.
In the sweet and golden sometime, and the time will not be long,
When no few will own this planet and control the human throng,
There will be a brighter prospect for the masses here below.
And aristocrat "four-hundreds" this old world will never know.
For the laws of righteous Nature claim all men as rightful heirs.
And the poor and rich are equal at the landing of the stairs.
In the sweet and golden sometime, when the fog of earth has cleared,
When there comes a brilliant sunbeam and the clouds have disappeared,
The results of Life's great battle can be summed up by each one;
Then the credit will be given only where good work is done,
And ambition to gain riches will have checked the growth of soul
And the poor may be the richer in the great eternal Whole.
A poem that reminds us that our home in heaven will be better than we can imagine.
Poet: H. W. Teller
What matter, friend, though you and I
May sow, and others gather?
"We build, and others occupy,
Each laboring for the other?
What though we toil, from sun to sun,
And men forget to flatter
The noblest work our hands have done?
If God approves, what matter?
What matter, though we sow in tears,
And crops fail at the reaping?
"What though the fruit of patient years
Fast perish in our keeping?
Upon our hoarded treasures, floods
Arise and tempests scatter?
If faith beholds, beyond the clouds,
A clearer sky, what matter?
What matter, though our castles fall,
And disappear while building;
Though "strange handwriting on the wall'
Flame out amid the gilding?
Though every idol of the heart
The hand of death may shatter,
Though hopes decay and friends depart,
If heaven be ours, what matter?
Poet: Francis Quarles
I love (and have some cause to love) the earth:
She is my Maker's creature, therefore good;
She is my mother, for she gave me birth;
She is my tender nurse � she gives me food:
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with thee?
Or what's my mother, or my nurse to me?
I love the air: her dainty sweets refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
Her shrill-mouthed choir sustains me with their flesh,
And with their many-toned notes delight me:
But what's the air or all the sweets that she
Can bless my soul withal, compared to thee?
I love the sea: she is my fellow-creature,
My careful purveyor; she provides me store;
She walls me round; she makes my diet greater;
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore:
But, Lord of oceans, when compared with thee,
What is the ocean or her wealth to me?
To heaven's high city I direct my journey,
Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye;
Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney,
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky-
But what is heaven, great God, compared to thee?
Without thy presence heaven's no heaven to me.
Without thy presence earth gives no reflection;
Without thy presence sea affords no treasure;
Without thy presence air's a rank infection;
Without thy presence heaven itself no pleasure:
If not possessed, if not enjoyed in thee.
What's earth or sea or air or heaven to me?
The highest honors that the world can boast
Are subjects far too low for my desire;
The brightest beams of glory are at most
But dying sparkles of thy living fire:
The loudest flames that earth can kindle be
But nightly glow-worms, if compared to thee.
Without thy presence wealth is bags of cares;
Wisdom but folly; joy disquiet, sadness;
Friendship is treason, and delights are snares;
Pleasures but pains, and mirth but pleasing madness;
Without thee, Lord, things be not what they be.
Nor have they being, when compared with thee.
In having all things, and not thee, what have I?
Not having thee, what have my labors got?
Let me enjoy but thee, what further crave I?
And having thee alone, what have I not?
I wish nor sea nor land, nor would I be
Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of thee.
Poet: C. A. Lynch
The day will come when grief and sadness cease,
Believe in Heaven I shall once again be blessed;
My loved one will wait there with hands to meet,
God has arranged that beautiful feat.
In Heaven, time passes differently my friend,
And with each minute of waiting the love will never end;
So fill your heart with courage and please do not forget,
When on Earth we must part, in Heaven we'll reunite yet.
When thinking about heaven, consider these words:
Poems About God
Poems About God's Mercy
Heaven Quotes
Poet: M. E. K.
God never meant that we should call this home,
This world of woe;
We use a strange misnomer and cheat ourselves
In thinking so.
If this were home, no flower would lose its bloom,
No leaf would fall;
No life decay, no shadow from the tomb
Our hearts appal.
This home? -then none would lay their armor down
In helpless weakness;
But, step by step, life's work would rounded be
To full completeness.
If this were home, then walking with us here,
With glory crowned,
Were those we laid to sleep, covered with scars,
Beneath the ground.
No palsied limb, nor weary brain, nor aching heart
Is found at home;
But joy and peace, and strength, and life divine.
Are there alone.
Thank God, we know this earth Is not our home!
No fond delusion
Can make us think our Father left us here
To blind confusion.
Thank God, that in life's little day, through all
Our care and sorrow
We have the promise from His lips, of home,
Sweet home, tomorrow!
A home unclouded by a grief, and where,
In mansions fair,
We'll clasp once more our missing ones! No hearts
Are broken there.
