The Resurrection
Strange the angels’ striking story
To the bringers of perfume:
As foretold, the Lord of glory
Was no longer in the tomb.
John and Peter saw His wrappings.
Mary lingered at the scene.
Each at first was puzzled, grappling:
What could all these wonders mean?
Hallelujah! Christ has risen!
He’s alive forevermore!
Death could no more Him imprison
Than a boast could win a war.
And His resurrection power
Raised us, too, through faith, with Him.
As the bulb bursts forth in flower,
We now have new life within.
Sin, the sting of death, is broken;
Jesus bore its penalty.
God, in raising Christ, has spoken,
(Just and Justifier, He!)
By His pardon access making:
We can know Him as He is.
And in knowing we’re partaking
Of the endless life that’s His.
Born of God with life eternal,
Not our own, but Christ within,
What a guarantee supernal
Of a future free from sin!
Christ in us, the hope of glory,
We in Him, forever His,
Rich the resurrection story,
Blest our promised prospect is.
Ed Morris, 2008
The Servant
See the Servant of the Lord,
By the Prophets underscored,
Well-delighting God’s own soul,
Chosen One we now extol,
But by mankind most abhorred,
Glorious Servant of the Lord!
Faithful Servant, just and true,
Sin and failure never knew,
Calmly working what was right,
Not disheartened by our spite,
Nor by what He had to do,
Knowing all that would ensue.
Skillful Servant, keen and wise,
E’er perceived the slickest guise.
Sharpened arrow from God’s bow,
Piercing hearts of friend and foe,
Laying bare our secret lies,
Yet with tender, loving eyes.
Gentle Servant, mild and meek,
Friend of battered reeds so weak,
Raising neither cry nor plea,
Showing sinners sympathy,
E’en when turning other cheek—
Greater love no tongue can speak!
Humble Servant, daily stirred
By His Father’s constant word,
Living in obedient trust
In the God whose ways are just.
Though reproaches He endured,
Vindication was assured.
See the wonder of His grace!
Like a flint He set His face,
More than any man was marred,
For His life had no regard,
Bore the curse for Adam’s race,
Took the sinner’s guilty place.
Yet His suffering at our hand
Was the Father’s perfect plan.
Sweetest smelling sacrifice,
Fully paid sin’s awful price
By His death at God’s command,
Showing forth His glory grand.
Noble Servant, thus outpoured,
This Your well-deserved reward:
Kings and princes will bow down
And confess Your rightful crown.
Ever be Your name adored,
Blessed Servant of the Lord!
Ed Morris, 2008
The Champion
The stalwart soldiers shrank in fear and trembled to a man
Before a feral fiend who stood six cubits and a span.
In armor unassailable he boasted of his might.
The enemy of justice challenged each and all to fight.
No mortal man could match this wicked warrior from his youth;
For forty days he taunted them, to prove this awful truth.
He made them feel their weakness and the fix that they were in:
They’d surely be his servants since they had no hope to win.
The Lord looked down with deep concern and saw their dreadful plight.
The devil’s power displeased Him, so He bared His arm for fight.
To brave the biggest battlefield, the Father sent His Son.
Though slighted by His brothers, from His task He would not run.
No armor would He carry as He faced the foe alone:
The weapons of His choosing were a shepherd’s sling and stone.
His lambs He would deliver from the lion’s loathsome jaws.
He knew that God was with Him in His right and worthy cause.
The giant scoffed in hatred and his challenger disdained.
He thought the show was over and the victory he’d gained.
He’d crucify this lowly youth and feed him to the birds.
The truth he failed to recognize: The battle is the Lord’s.
Forthwith to fight the felon did our daring David charge.
No need to fear death’s savage spear, though weaver’s beam-like large.
His rival had no chance because the Lord he had defied,
And on the name of that same Lord, God’s chosen Man relied.
He slung His stone and sank it deep to crush the serpent’s head.
He took the brute’s great brawny blade and with it smote him dead.
And having thus disarmed the powers of sin and hell arrayed,
A glorious triumph over them He publicly displayed.
The Victor’s spoils, so well-deserved: great riches and a bride.
Our souls are knit to His in love; with Him we now abide.
Like Jonathan, we give to Him our royal robe and sword:
The right to reign is His alone, our Champion and our Lord.
Ed Morris, 2007
Gospel Glory
Radiant rays of gospel glory:
See them in the Savior’s face!
Streaming, gleaming, broadly beaming,
Shedding light in every place.
You who dwell in depths of darkness,
Daylight dawns and starts to shine,
Glowing, growing, starkly showing
Sinful flesh and truth divine.
In that blinding blaze the blackness
Of your soul can feign no smile.
Stressing, pressing, sore distressing,
Sin now shows so cruel and vile.
Do not love the night of slumber;
Let the Lord of light shine in.
Living, giving, all-forgiving,
He alone can save and clean.
For that light of God most holy
Tells a tale of glorious grace.
Caring, bearing sins so glaring,
Willingly He takes our place.
See salvation’s splashing splendor!
View those vivid, vibrant tones!
Dying, buying, justifying,
Jesus justly claims His own.
In the Savior’s resurrection
God displays His dazzling might,
Seeing, freeing, guaranteeing
Life with Christ as saints in light.
In our hearts the Lord has entered,
Sweetly lavished lustrous love,
Welling, swelling, ever telling
Of that perfect light above.
Now we walk in warmth and wonder;
His dear presence is our light.
Hearing, cheering, hindrance-clearing,
He will steer our steps aright.
Then one day in greater grandeur
We’ll behold His brilliant hues,
Gazing, praising—grace amazing!—
Gladly glimpsing glorious views.
Ed Morris, 2007
Redemption Joy
Lord, we thank You for redemption; how we joy to be Your own,
To belong as blood-bought children to the Father and the Son!
Why God set His love upon us is a mystery sublime;
In His charity He chose us from before the start of time,
And He sent His Son to save us by His sovereign grace alone.
Lord, we thank You for redemption; how we joy to be Your own!
Oh, the precious price of pardon that You paid at Calvary!
What a privilege our portion to be purchased perfectly.
Make our hearts respond with gladness to Your sober words so true:
“You are not your own; I’ve bought you,” so our souls belong to You,
And we find our satisfaction glorifying You alone.
Lord, we thank You for redemption; how we joy to be Your own!
What a pleasure and a purpose to be servants of the Lord!
We’re enslaved to sin no longer; now our Master we adore,
For His yoke is soft and steady when we’re with Him step-by-step,
And though still we sometimes stumble, He is quick to pick us up,
And our work has worth eternal when it’s done for Him alone.
Lord, we thank You for redemption; how we joy to be Your own!
Oh, the raptured bliss of being our Beloved’s bright-eyed bride,
And to love the One who loves us, longs to call us to His side!
How His priceless promise thrills us: we will see Him as He is,
And we’ll be with Him forever, fit for Him and fully His,
Bringing joy to Him who’s worthy for His wondrous work well-done.
Lord, we thank You for redemption; how we joy to be Your own!
Ed Morris, 2007
May be sung to the tune of The Glory of His Presence.
Treasures of God’s Fullness
What glorious treasures, Lord, in You we see,
O perfect Light of holy Deity,
Where God was pleased to make His fullness dwell,
And in Your fullness we delight as well!
In You we see the fullness of God’s grace,
Coming from glory to the lowest place,
Made sin for sinful, undeserving man,
Purchased our prized place in redemption’s plan.
In You we see the fullness of God’s truth,
About Your Father’s business from Your youth.
Your words stand fast, no guile, no impure parts,
Discerner of each motive of our hearts.
In You we see the fullness of God’s love,
Love of a tender Father up above,
Love that came down and looked upon our needs,
Love that still carries our infirmities.
In You the fullness of God’s joy we see,
Transcending sorrow of the shameful tree,
Delighting in Your saving work well done,
Joy in Your fruit who joy to be Your own.
Oh, thrill our hearts with all Your fullness grand!
Each taste is rich, sweet blessing from Your hand!
O Bread of Life, O God-revealing Word,
We long for deeper knowledge of You, Lord!
Ed Morris, 2007
May be sung to the tune Ellers or Eventide (Abide With Me).
Crucified With Jesus
I am crucified with Jesus,
It is no more I who live,
I am well content with weakness,
Perfect power to receive,
And the life He now lives in me
Is my only righteousness.
Jesus gave His own self for me,
How can I desire less?
When my soul goes down to Egypt
To indulge in worldly thought,
And I’m living for my pleasure,
Not for Him by whom I’m bought,
May He rescue me from bondage
With His title to forgive.
Since I’m crucified with Jesus,
My own life I cannot live.
When I’m feasting on the manna
From my Savior’s vast array
In the holy heav’nly places
Where His blood has made a way,
How the old things are supplanted
By the new in Christ my Lord.
Crucified and raised with Jesus,
Wondrous life in me outpoured!
When I see the One who loves me
In His splendor on the throne,
Any glory He bestows me
Will be His and not my own,
And the scars of my Redeemer
Will outshine the crowns for me.
I am crucified with Jesus,
Linked to Him eternally.
Ed Morris, 2001
Jehovah-jireh
From time everlasting in glory above
The Almighty God had one consummate love.
His only begotten, His daily delight,
In all of His fullness partaking by right.
Then who is this bondman, a sacrifice made,
On Calvary’s altar for burnt offering laid?
O solemn fulfillment! O heart-breaking plan!
The Lord has provided Himself a dear Lamb!
No mind can conceive the distress that ensues:
The holy Lord Jesus, Jehovah must bruise.
But, counting the prize worth immeasurable pain,
He bears all the suffering, redemption to gain.
And now it is finished; the work is all done.
What joy for the Father to raise His dear Son!
And as ransomed children, loved thus to the end,
We share in His bliss; how His glories transcend!
Ed Morris, 1993 (Revised 1994)
Wondrous Expectation
With wondrous expectation, Lord,
We wait Your Spirit now;
Oh, may our hearts with one accord
In humble worship bow.
Grant us to set ourselves aside
That we might newly be,
As one with all Your sanctified,
To honor You set free.
Then we’ll behold Your radiant face
As in us all You frame
A harmony of sweetest praise
To Your most precious name.
Not ours alone, but Your delight
So graciously to share
A future glimpse, a glorious sight,
Of how we’ll praise You there!
Yes, You will soon to us impart
To sing in spotless dress
Your highest name, Your kindest heart,
Your perfect worthiness.
Ed Morris, 1993 (Revised 1996)
Calvary’s Call
Hear, O heart, the call of Calvary!
Sweet the soft, persistent sound!
Bids us bask in boundless blessing
Where abundant life is found.
Will we wallow in our weakness
With the wealth of God so near?
Lift our eyes, Lord! Plant before them
Calvary’s source of strength and cheer.
When assailed by sin so shameful
We abhor our flesh, aghast,
May the cross of Christ remind us
Of forgiveness, free and vast.
When we’re weary, worn, and woeful,
Dour, despondent, and depressed,
May the tree that sweetened Marah
Grant refreshment, joy, and rest.
When our hearts grow cold and distant,
Drifting after worldly lure,
What besides the cross can stir them,
With its voice of love so sure?
Keep us close, O Christ, to Calvary!
Stay our wayward, wandering minds.
Fix our focus on that fountain
Where Your glory brightest shines!
Ed Morris, 2008
Pity Parties
Pity parties are the pits.
Though you feel at end of wits,
Keep from pining, inward whining;
Don’t let Satan land his hits.
Jesus promised perfect joy
E’en when sorrows sore annoy.
Just believe it to receive it;
Faith’s a tool you must employ.
God has work for us below,
Much more glorious than we know.
If you’re willing, life fulfilling
You’ll find as you serve and grow.
Ed Morris, 2007
Dedicated to Bonnie Frank, author of the first line.
The Joy of Tears
You’ve known the moan of heavy heart;
You’ve worn the wear of weary years.
Depression’s played its painful part,
But have you known the joy of tears?
You sigh and mourn from morn to night;
Your spirit pours perpetual prayers.
And time no answer brings to sight,
But have you learned the joy of tears?
You know God’s plan works all for good;
His love your silent heartache hears.
In theory this you’ve understood,
But have you felt the joy of tears?
The Savior weeps with weeping souls;
He deeply sorrows, suffers, cares.
How sweetly He can thus console,
Who knows Himself the joy of tears.
Why should we trial and grief abhor,
Which hold us to His heart so dear?
Through them He makes us love Him more
And richly live the joy of tears.
This time of testing that He grants
Will only last a few more years.
The present is our only chance
To praise Him in the joy of tears.
Lord, grow us in Your glorious grace
Until Your image so appears
That we can spread Your smiling face
And thank You for the joy of tears.
Ed Morris, 2007
Encouragement from Jehoshaphat
When the burden of your battle is too big for you to bear,
And bewildered and discouraged you cry out to God in prayer,
“Lord, You rule o’er earth and heaven, and salvation comes from You,
But my situation’s hopeless—I just don’t know what to do!”
So you fix your eyes on Jesus, knowing nowhere else to run,
Then you’re right where God has brought you, in the presence of His Son!
Oh, the sweetness of the fellowship when gazing on His face!
Oh, the blessing of dependence on the Lord of sovereign grace!
What a bliss to know He loves you as you see His glory shine!
What a peace to hear His answer, “This is not your war, but Mine!”
You can face your foe with fearlessness; you will not have to fight,
So just take your stand in stillness and behold His saving might!
Trust in God and be established and believe His Word so true.
Praise and thank Him for His mercy and His faithfulness to you.
Sing with joy whatever happens; He is working for your good.
Let your knowledge of His wisdom reassure you as it should.
Looking back from heaven’s vantage you will understand His plan,
And you’ll glory in His greatness and His wondrous thoughts to man!
For the day is drawing nearer when the battle will be o’er,
And these trials and temptations will be testing you no more,
And the One who won the victory so valiantly each day,
Gaining just the goal He sought for, though He seemed so far away,
Will rejoice to have you with Him, in His holy beauty, too,
And you’ll prize the precious privilege of the part He’s given you!
Ed Morris, 2006
(Based on 2 Chronicles 20)
Sovereign Love
Happy children on the seashore
Swallowed swiftly by God’s wave!
Now enjoying His creation,
Now engulfed in briny grave.
Sovereign Lord, the world You order
Wretched, cruel often is!
Dread disaster’s in Your purpose,
And You tell us You are love??
Senseless act of hateful terror
Coolly planned by monstrous men!
Brazenly they murder thousands
Just to celebrate their end.
Sovereign Lord, the world You order
Heinous, evil often is!
Satan’s schemes are in Your purpose,
And You tell us You are good??
Grieving widow, comfort failing,
In a large and empty house,
Sobbing, pleading, praying, wailing,
Did God have to take her spouse?
Sovereign Lord, the world You order
Woeful, lonely often is!
Trials grave are in Your purpose,
And You tell us You are near??
Cross where Christ, the Lord of heaven,
Writhes in agony unknown,
Bearing grief and separation,
All for sin, but not His own.
Sovereign Lord, Your glorious power,
Works all things the way You will.
You could do whatever pleased You,
And You chose a path of pain??
Silently God lets us ponder
His great wisdom’s perfect plan:
Love that shines through deepest darkness,
Death, and futile thoughts of man.
Teach us, Lord, to fear and trust You
With a peace that’s from above.
Make us know Your presence with us
And delight in sovereign love!
Ed Morris, 2006
Faith More Precious Than Gold
Although now, for a while,
Sore distressed by grievous trial,
And your love for your Lord may grow cold,
You are shielded by Him,
To His hope you’re born again,
And your faith is more precious than gold.
How intense is the fire
Of your grief and deep desire
And the pain of the sob of your soul;
Of God’s plan you’re afraid,
And by Him you feel betrayed,
But your faith is more precious than gold.
Though He slay, you can trust
Him who made you out of dust;
He is still the same God as of old.
Though you can’t see Him now,
Still you love Him anyhow
With your faith that’s more precious than gold.
God is now glorified
When in Him you still abide
And His fruit of endurance show bold.
You’re the work of His hand,
And on Him you must depend,
So your faith is more precious than gold.
You can greatly rejoice
In His name and in His choice
More like Jesus your being to mold.
So then run to the Lord,
To His side and to His Word;
Put to practice this faith more than gold.
When you flee thus in prayer
And experience His care,
Then the proof of your faith will be told.
Though some pain might remain,
You’ll thank God for all the rain,
For you’ll know your faith’s worth more than gold.
And this faith has an end
That you’ll better comprehend:
The salvation and life of your soul,
An inheritance sweet,
Bowing at your Savior’s feet,
Praising Him for this gift more than gold.
Ed Morris, 2004
(Based on 1 Peter 1:3-9)
I Am Not Far From Home
All through this barren land I wander,
Longing for rest;
Why does it seem so hard, I ponder;
Why such a load on my breast?
All the world seems sad and drearyWhen reeling under sore temptations,
Everywhere I roam,
Then I realize that the Lord is near me;
I am not far from home.
Often I fall,
But Jesus, still with perfect patience,
Answers my faintest call.
Though the world seems sad and drearyHis look conveys forgiveness ever;
Everywhere I roam,
He, my tender Shepherd, loves to hear me;
I am not far from home.
His voice so mild,
“Keep trusting till the journey’s over;
I’ll not forsake you, child.”
Though the world seems sad and drearyAnd soon, O thought beyond all fathom,
Everywhere I roam,
What a comfort that my Saviour’s near me;
I am not far from home.
His face we’ll see;
So shall we evermore be with Him,
Like Him, in victory!
Though the world seems sad and dreary
Everywhere I roam,
How that blessed hope prevails to cheer me:
I am not far from home.
Ed Morris, 1994 (Revised 1998)
To the tune of S’wanee River (Old Folks at Home)
The Source of Love
Let not my love for you be mine to choose
As though I merely willed it to effuse
From somewhere in my fickle heart and mind
For reasons I could search my soul and find.
It isn’t that the reasons seem too weak:
They tell me that you’re everything I seek.
I marvel at the things you say and do
And thank the Lord each day for making you.
Your beauty beams and steals my breath away.
Your talents gleam like jewels on display.
Your gentle spirit, kindly smile, and voice
Are sweeter songs that make my heart rejoice.
Your grandest gift by which I’m still more awed
Is what I’ve seen in your pure love for God.
Small wonder that my heart outright admires
The woman who such wondrous thought inspires.
But all this mighty cause for wanting you
Could never guarantee my love was true.
For who am I to call such feelings love
Unless they be confirmed by God above?
My admiration’s real, I trust you know,
But human thoughts and motives ebb and flow.
The love I crave’s a much more glorious thing
That only from the Lord could ever spring.
Could such a love be mine by simple choice,
I never would have heard your pleasant voice.
For oft before, I’ve tried those flames to fan
When that was not the Savior’s perfect plan.
So I resolve to wait and trust each day
Until He makes me know somehow, some way,
That what I feel is not a fleeting whim,
But true enduring love bestowed by Him.
And if this longing prayer He should fulfill,
I’ll joyfully commit my heart and will
To peerless love that lasts at any price,
Believes, and bears, and shuns no sacrifice.
For when two hearts are joined by God as one,
They form a princely picture of His Son.
Those who the Father gives to Him will know
His love supreme that to the cross would go.
For thus the sovereign Lord’s effectual word
Ensures the hearts of His elect are stirred.
By His design their love for Him will sprout,
And in His love they know no fear nor doubt.
So I’ll not stew nor strive your love to gain,
Nor could my labors such a prize obtain.
The Lord in whom by grace we richly live
Alone can choose His perfect love to give.
Ed Morris, 2007
A Pleasant Longing
I loved a phantom; she loved me.
We lived, as happy as could be.
But then—oh, how my poor heart broke
When from my reverie I woke.
My minutes march, though years have flown,
With one undying undertone.
Though you may see me still the same,
My heart’s now haunted by a dream.
(My heart is haunted by a dream...)
Ed Morris, 2007
Blake’s Mistake
“Don’t tell your love,” the sage advised,
“Or you will never get her.”
“Well said!” the swain soliloquized,
“But silence works no better.”
Ed Morris, 2007
(With apologies to William Blake, author of Love’s Secret.)
Cucumber Pie
Are cucumbers cool
As a general rule?
How fresh is a daisy?
Are loons always crazy?
How snug is a bug
When he’s not in a rug?
How gentle are lambs?
How happy are clams?
How clever’s a fox
That’s as dumb as an ox?
How fit is a fiddle?
As clean as a whistle?
Are doornails more dead
Than a dodo bird’s head?
Is the deafness of posts
More than four hundred roasts?
Such puzzles befuddle and much mystify
Till suddenly you see they’re as easy as pie!
Ed Morris, 2007
Poetry that Isn’t
What wafting of wisdom! Such saccharine sound!
Deft diction’s depictions, opaque and profound!
So ruminants rumble and mumble and seek
To mine out much marrow, obtuse and oblique.
My constant conundrum’s more crude and perverse:
I strive not to retch at such wretched non-verse.
Fair finery flops if its form foully flows:
Each clash, pull, and smash smells of emperor’s clothes.
You poets who pass pompous prose off as poem,
Go home!
Ed Morris, 2007
This page copyright © 2001-2008 Edward A. Morris. Created May 4, 2001. Last updated March 29, 2008.