Good Friday Poem

Good Friday Poem

Here we shared some Good Friday Poem for you. Send Good Friday poem to your family and friends via Facebook, Whatsapp, Twitter etc. Good Friday is widely known in reminiscence of Christ’s Passion, crucifixion, and dying. The most important Good Friday symbol is the crucifix, or pass, which represents the way in which Jesus died. Some crosses undergo a parent of Christ. Other symbols of Good Friday encompass black material used to cover the pass, artwork and statues in church buildings and some houses to indicate mourning. In addition, some human beings intentionally create a bare look in their homes and church buildings by means of disposing of all plants and bright items.

15+ Good Friday Poem Collection

Good Friday – Good Friday Poem

BY -Christina Rossetti

Am I a stone, and not a sheep,
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross,
To number drop by drop Thy blood’s slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter, weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon
Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon –
I, only I.

Yet give not o’er,
But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
And smite a rock.

“The Everlasting Mercy” – Good Friday Poem

BY – John Masefield

“The Everlasting Mercy” - Good Friday Poem

“The Everlasting Mercy” – Good Friday Poem

O Christ who holds the open gate,
O Christ who drives the furrow straight,
O Christ, the plough, O Christ, the laughter
Of holy white birds flying after,
Lo, all my heart’s field red and torn,
And Thou wilt bring the young green corn
The young green corn divinely springing,
The young green corn forever singing;
And when the field is fresh and fair
Thy blessèd feet shall glitter there,
And we will walk the weeded field,
And tell the golden harvest’s yield,
The corn that makes the holy bread
By which the soul of man is fed,
The holy bread, the food unpriced,
Thy everlasting mercy, Christ.

“The Dream of the Rood” – Good Friday Poem

Anglo-Saxon, 8th century, trans. Richard Hammer (1970)

“The Dream of the Rood” - Good Friday Poem

“The Dream of the Rood” – Good Friday Poem

The earliest Christian poem in English

The Rood (cross of Christ) speaks:

“It was long past – I still remember it – 
That I was cut down at the copse’s end,
Moved from my root. Strong enemies there took me,
Told me to hold aloft their criminals,
Made me a spectacle. Men carried me
Upon their shoulders, set me on a hill,
A host of enemies there fastened me.

“And then I saw the Lord of all mankind
Hasten with eager zeal that He might mount
Upon me. I durst not against God’s word
Bend down or break, when I saw tremble all
The surface of the earth. Although I might
Have struck down all the foes, yet stood I fast.

“Then the young hero (who was God almighty)
Got ready, resolute and strong in heart.
He climbed onto the lofty gallows-tree,
Bold in the sight of many watching men,
When He intended to redeem mankind.
I trembled as the warrior embraced me.
But still I dared not bend down to the earth,
Fall to the ground. Upright I had to stand.

“A rood I was raised up; and I held high 
The noble King, the Lord of heaven above.
I dared not stoop. They pierced me with dark nails;
The scars can still be clearly seen on me,

The open wounds of malice. Yet might I
Not harm them. They reviled us both together.
I was made wet all over with the blood
Which poured out from his side, after He had 
Sent forth His spirit. And I underwent
Full many a dire experience on that hill.
I saw the God of hosts stretched grimly out.
Darkness covered the Ruler’s corpse with clouds
His shining beauty; shadows passed across,
Black in the darkness. All creation wept,
Bewailed the King’s death; Christ was on the cross….

“The Dream of the Rood” - Good Friday Poem

“The Dream of the Rood” – Good Friday Poem

“Now you may understand, dear warrior,
That I have suffered deeds of wicked men
And grievous sorrows. Now the time has come
That far and wide on earth men honor me,
And all this great and glorious creation,
And to this beacon offers prayers. On me
The Son of God once suffered; therefore now
I tower mighty underneath the heavens,
And I may heal all those in awe of me.
Once I became the cruelest of tortures,
Most hateful to all nations, till the time
I opened the right way of life for men.”

Poem: Good Friday, 1613. Riding Westward

BY – John Donne

Let mans Soule be a Spheare, and then, in this,
The intelligence that moves, devotion is,
And as the other Spheares, by being growne
Subject to forraigne motion, lose their owne,
And being by others hurried every day,
Scarce in a yeare their naturall forme obey:
Pleasure or businesse, so, our Soules admit
For their first mover, and are whirld by it.
Hence is’t, that I am carryed towards the West
This day, when my Soules forme bends toward the East.
There I should see a Sunne, by rising set,
And by that setting endlesse day beget;
But that Christ on this Crosse, did rise and fall,
Sinne had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for mee.
Who sees Gods face, that is selfe life, must dye;
What a death were it then to see God dye?
It made his owne Lieutenant Nature shrinke,
It made his footstoole crack, and the Sunne winke.
Could I behold those hands which span the Poles,
And tune all spheares at once peirc’d with those holes?
Could I behold that endlesse height which is
Zenith to us, and our Antipodes,
Humbled below us? or that blood which is
The seat of all our Soules, if not of his,
Made durt of dust, or that flesh which was worne
By God, for his apparell, rag’d, and torne?
If on these things I durst not looke, durst I
Upon his miserable mother cast mine eye,
Who was Gods partner here, and furnish’d thus
Halfe of that Sacrifice, which ransom’d us?
Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye,
They’are present yet unto my memory,
For that looks towards them; and thou look’st towards mee,
O Saviour, as thou hang’st upon the tree;
I turne my backe to thee, but to receive
Corrections, till thy mercies bid thee leave.
O thinke mee worth thine anger, punish mee,
Burne off my rusts, and my deformity,
Restore thine Image, so much, by thy grace,
That thou may’st know mee, and I’ll turne my face.

Faith in Focus – Good Friday Poem

Good Friday,

When they crucified Jesus,

the day became night

as darkness was sent from above.

So far from the Father

lonely, forsaken

yet, so near in His infinite love.

When they mocked Him and flogged Him,

they were unaware

of the darkness that clouded their mind.

The sin of the world

was put on His shoulders

He offered His life for mankind.

When they thought they had killed Him,

they had taken His life,

He had given it out of free will.

In the outside world,

no-one knew what had happened

far away, on Golgotha’s hill. 

But, the Father in mercy

and endless compassion,

looked down from on high on His Son.

Who committed His Spirit

in the hands of the Father,

and in triumph cried out: It is done!

Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross – Good Friday Poem

Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross - Good Friday Poem

Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross – Good Friday Poem

His spirit and his life he breathes in all
Now on this cross, his body breathes no more
Here at the centre, everything is still
Spent, and emptied, opened to the core.
A quiet taking down, a prising loose
A cross-beam lowered like a weighing scale
Unmaking of each thing that had its use
Along withdrawing of each bloodied nail,
This is ground zero, emptiness and space
With nothing left to say or think or do
But look unflinching on the sacred face
That cannot move or change or look at you.
Yet in that pricing loose and letting me
He has unfastened you and set you free.

Jesus dies on the cross – Good Friday Poem

The dark nails pierce him and the sky turns black

Jesus dies on the cross - Good Friday Poem

Jesus dies on the cross – Good Friday Poem

We watch him as he labours to draw breath

He takes our breath away to give it back,
Return it to its birth through his slow death.
We hear him struggle to breathe through the pain
Who once breathed out his spirit on the deep,
Who formed us when he mixed the dust with rain
And drew us into consciousness from sleep.
His spirit and his life he breathes in all
Mantles his world in his one atmosphere
And now he comes to breathe beneath the pall
Of our pollutions, draw our injured air
To cleanse it and renew. His final breath
Breathes us, and bears us through the gates of death.

Collections of Small Good Friday Poem

Love of LordThe love of Lord on this day 
Who sacrificed and paved a way 
He did this for our sins
So that good things prevail
Bow to him on this day 
Its Good Friday today!

He gave usLord gave his life for us 
For our love and the world 
The pain and the sufferings 
Was enough for the bearing 
The heart that cried seeing him this way 
It’s that holy day 
It’s Good Friday!

good friday poem

good Friday poem

So kind is wayThere would have been no transformation, 
Nothing to care of 
No means to salvation 
Without the sacrifice of the Almighty Lord
So, bow to him 
From my heart and thought 
This Good Friday!

The day was the day when we remember our saviour 
Who sacrificed and restored 
The faith in love and humanity 
For all the sufferings and core 
Bless this day and his love 
For us to survive 
On this holy day of Good Friday!

To save us allYou shed your glory thy Lord 
For humanity and love 
To save the world from pain 
You sacrificed in vain
Bless us thy Lord on this holy day 
Good Friday!

Good Friday Poem

Good Friday Poem

A second chance second chance that you gave 
For the love and humanity 
You sacrificed for the love 
So, please accept our love 
As we bow in front of you 
Love for Almighty
This holy Good Friday!

For all the wrongFor all the wrongs that we did 
For all the things undone 
The saviour of this earth 
Took it all to him 
For saving us with grace 
For the love of humanity 
Good Friday is the day 
So, bless this day!

He came in this world like a common man,
He was the son of God, yet He came to us like a friend. 
He lived and he died, but then he rose again, 
He will come back one day once again, for Jesus is our best friend. 
May you have a Holy and Fulfilling Good Friday!

Jesus will listen to your prayers on this day, 
He will guide you through the maze of your problems showing you a better way. 
Like your Guardian Angel, 
He will watch your back against all dangers, 
Like your best friend, 
He will keep you calm your anger and temper. 
So put leave your problems and worries for his to solve, 
Forget they exist and witness how he makes them dissolve. 
Have a splendid and fulfilling Good Friday.

This Good Friday put your trust in our dear Lord, 
For he’s the best friend you could ever have. 
His love for you is abundant and shows for boundaries, 
Unconditional and pure, this love is in its truest form filled with feelings. 
So this Good Friday put your trust in our dear Lord, 
And he will make all your problems disappear. 
Good Friday to you.

He came down in human form before 2000 years, 
He will be back again to show us his love for us, 
So let’s prepare ourselves for his special coming, 
Let’s replace the bitterness in our hearts, let’s work on being more loving. 
Blood poured from his head as they pierced him with crowns, 
His bones hurt as they made him carry his cross all the way to Calvary, 
His love for us never became less in spite of this brutality, 
He still continues to love humanity.

Jesus our Lord, changed the world in such a beautiful way 
That today even after 2000 years we remember Him every day. 
This Good Friday, let us take time to ponder on His great sacrifice, 
Let us promise to be good Christians every day of our lives. 
May His light shine upon you this Good Friday!


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Wish you all a very happy good Friday, enjoy this good Friday with your friends and family.

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