The Prize

Oh how I love to hear you speak of heaven
How I love to hear you say
How it'll be when we're called up yonder
Into eternal day

Oh how I love to hear the songs of Zion
How I love to hear you sing
Of that city coming down from heaven
Of wedding bells soon to ring

Oh to hear the wonders that He'll do
And the mercy that He gives
But how meaningless it will be
If what you know you do not live

For the path is straight and narrow
The way is held up high
To reach that holy city
To Christ you must draw nigh

The is a temple to be built
A work that must be done
We cannot sit idle
While there is a race for us to run

And when we reach that mark
It's out Father's face we'll see
For it's the prize of the high calling
To reign with Him through eternity
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

 Avatar
May 8, 2020 at 4:49 PM
This is powerful and true.
Sathasivam Avatar
February 22, 2015 at 7:50 AM
Excellent. Well penned. Enjoyed. Tfs
Keehn Avatar
October 24, 2015 at 9:08 PM
Thank you!
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace