0.0 – Christian Science Hymns and Poems by Mary Baker Eddy – Index

Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, p. 29

Christmas Morn

Blest Christmas morn, though murky clouds
 Pursue thy way,
Thy light was born where storm enshrouds
 Nor dawn nor day!

Dear Christ, forever here and near,
 No cradle song,
No natal hour and mother's tear,
 To thee belong.

Thou God-idea, Life-encrowned,
 The Bethlehem babe —
Beloved, replete, by flesh embound —
 Was but thy shade!

Thou gentle beam of living Love,
 And deathless Life!
Truth infinite, — so far above
 All mortal strife,

Or cruel creed, or earth-born taint:
 Fill us today
With all thou art — be thou our saint,
 Our stay, alway.

Love - Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, pp. 6, 7

Brood o'er us with Thy shelt'ring wing,
'Neath which our spirits blend
Like brother birds, that soar and sing,
And on the same branch bend.
The arrow that doth wound the dove
Darts not from those who watch and love.

If thou the bending reed wouldst break
 By thought or word unkind,
Pray that his spirit you partake,
 Who loved and healed mankind:
Seek holy thoughts and heavenly strain,
That make men one in love remain.

Learn, too, that wisdom's rod is given
 For faith to kiss, and know;
That greetings glorious from high heaven,
 Whence joys supernal flow,
Come from that Love, divinely near,
Which chastens pride and earth-born fear,

Through God, who gave that word of might
 Which swelled creation's lay:
"Let there be light, and there was light."
 What chased the clouds away?
'Twas Love whose finger traced aloud
A bow of promise on the cloud.

Thou to whose power our hope we give,
 Free us from human strife.
Fed by Thy love divine we live,
 For Love alone is Life;
And life most sweet, as heart to heart
Speaks kindly when we meet and part.

Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, p. 79

Satisfied

It matters not what be thy lot,
 So Love doth guide;
For storm or shine, pure peace is thine,
 Whate'er betide.

And of these stones, or tyrants' thrones,
 God able is
To raise up seed — in thought and deed —
 To faithful His.

Aye, darkling sense, arise, go hence!
 Our God is good.
False fears are foes — truth tatters those,
 When understood.

Love looseth thee, and lifteth me,
 Ayont hate's thrall:
There Life is light, and wisdom might,
 And God is All.

The centuries break, the earth-bound wake,
 God's glorified!
Who doth His will — His likeness still —
 Is satisfied.

Seven Hymns

Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, pp. 4, 5

Mother's Evening Prayer

O gentle presence, peace and joy and power;
 O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour,
Thou Love that guards the nestling's faltering flight!
 Keep Thou my child on upward wing tonight.

Love is our refuge; only with mine eye
 Can I behold the snare, the pit, the fall:
His habitation high is here, and nigh,
 His arm encircles me, and mine, and all.

O make me glad for every scalding tear,
 For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!
Wait, and love more for every hate, and fear
 No ill, — since God is good, and loss is gain.

Beneath the shadow of His mighty wing;
 In that sweet secret of the narrow way,
Seeking and finding, with the angels sing:
 "Lo, I am with you alway," — watch and pray.

No snare, no fowler, pestilence or pain;
 No night drops down upon the troubled breast,
When heaven's aftersmile earth's tear-drops gain,
 And mother finds her home and heav'nly rest.

Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, pp. 12, 13

Christ My Refuge

O'er waiting harpstrings of the mind
 There sweeps a strain,
Low, sad, and sweet, whose measures bind
 The power of pain,

And wake a white-winged angel throng
 Of thoughts, illumed
By faith, and breathed in raptured song,
 With love perfumed.

Then His unveiled, sweet mercies show
 Life's burdens light.
I kiss the cross, and wake to know
 A world more bright.

And o'er earth's troubled, angry sea
 I see Christ walk,
And come to me, and tenderly,
 Divinely talk.

Thus Truth engrounds me on the rock,
 Upon Life's shore,
'Gainst which the winds and waves can shock,
 Oh, nevermore!

From tired joy and grief afar,
 And nearer Thee, —
Father, where Thine own children are,
 I love to be.

My prayer, some daily good to do
 To Thine, for Thee;
An offering pure of Love, whereto
 God leadeth me.

Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, p. 75

Communion Hymn

Saw ye my Saviour? Heard ye the glad sound?
Felt ye the power of the Word?
'Twas the Truth that made us free,
And was found by you and me
In the life and the love of our Lord.

Mourner, it calls you, — "Come to my bosom,
Love wipes your tears all away,
And will lift the shade of gloom,
And for you make radiant room
Midst the glories of one endless day."

Sinner, it calls you, — "Come to this fountain,
Cleanse the foul senses within;
'Tis the Spirit that makes pure,
That exalts thee, and will cure
All thy sorrow and sickness and sin."

Strongest deliverer, friend of the friendless,
Life of all being divine:
Thou the Christ, and not the creed;
Thou the Truth in thought and deed;
Thou the water, the bread, and the wine.

Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, p. 14

Feed My Sheep

Shepherd, show me how to go
 O'er the hillside steep,
How to gather, how to sow, —
 How to feed Thy sheep;
I will listen for Thy voice,
 Lest my footsteps stray;
I will follow and rejoice
 All the rugged way.

Thou wilt bind the stubborn will,
 Wound the callous breast,
Make self-righteousness be still,
 Break earth's stupid rest.
Strangers on a barren shore,
 Lab'ring long and lone,
We would enter by the door,
 And Thou know'st Thine own;

So, when day grows dark and cold,
 Tear or triumph harms,
Lead Thy lambkins to the fold,
 Take them in Thine arms;
Feed the hungry, heal the heart,
 Till the morning's beam;
White as wool, ere they depart,
 Shepherd, wash them clean.