Login | Support
Images Activity Sheets Books Poetry

The Slaughtered Lamb

by Annie B © 2020

The Slaughtered Lamb

The Lamb dies uncomplaining;
The sin of all men bearing;
Going patient on, weak, not strong;
He takes our guilt without sharing.

A sinful life we offer;
With only wounds, death, and cries.
He bears all shame, stripes, and sinning;
Carrying our anguish, He dies.

This Lamb’s none but Jesus Christ,
The soul’s only greatest Friend;
The Son of God, now our Savior;
Who God the Father chose to send.

“Go forth, My Son,” Abba said;
“And free men from all their fears
Of guilt and of condemnation;
While letting them know We are near.”

“Father, yes, most willingly,
I will bear what You command.”
“My Will conforms to Your decree;
I’ll do whatever You demand.”

Wondrous Love, what have You done?
The content Son now descends!
The Father offers up His Son,
Whose Words the mountains will ascend.

You laid Your Son on the Cross,
With nails and spears were bruising.
Sin slain Him as the Paschal Lamb;
His loss from Divine Blood was oozing.

From His body crimson flood;
From His soul strength of anguish;
From precious sacrificial blood;
For me alone He did languish.

All my life I’ll cleave to Thee;
Your Love’s always beholding;
Your Love is always kept for me;
With Your loving arms enfolding.

Morn to night my theme shall be
Your Mercy’s wondrous measure.
To sacrifice myself for Thee
My only aim and my pleasure.

Enlarge my heart’s own shrine to swell;
From You, it’s freely given;
A treasure that does far excel;
The worth of the Earth and Heaven.

This Treasure I will employ;
Your every help shall free me.
In sorrow, it shall be my joy.
In conflict it’ll always shield me.

In joy, the music of Your Feast.
Your manna still shall feed me.
And when all else has lost its’ zest;
For comfort, Your Word will lead me.

Of death, I’m no more afraid;
New life from You is flowing.
Your Cross affords me cooling shade
When noonday’s sun is glowing.

When by grief I am oppressed,
Discontented on my pillow;
On You my weary soul will rest
On trouble’s surging billows.

And when Your Glory I’ll see;
And taste Your Kingdom’s pleasure;
Your Blood my royal robe shall be
My joy, beyond all measure.

My life’s dream will only be
My constant praises outpouring.
I’ll treasure in my memory
Your gracious love adoring.

When I appear before Thy throne;
And there, in garments richly wrought;
Your Righteousness shall be my crown;
As Your own Bride I have been bought.

Yes, You’ll be my Beacon Light;
Governing me and all that’s mine;
Always keeping my heart in sight;
So to You, my Lamb, I resign.

social media buttons share on facebook share on linked in share on twitter
This Christian poem may be used within Christian ministries for any non-profit purpose without requesting permission.
Please remember to mention the author of this poem when using.