Treasure Island

Cecil Frances Alexander

(Early April 1818 – 12 October 1895 / Dublin)

There Is A Green Hill


THERE is a green hill far away,
Without a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified,
Who died to save us all.

We may not know, we cannot tell
What pains he had to bear,
But we believe it was for us
He hung and suffer’d there.

He died that we might be forgiven,
He died to make us good,
That we might go at last to heaven,
Sav’d by his precious blood.

There was no other good enough
To pay the price of sin;
He only could unlock the gate
Of heaven, and let us in.

O dearly, dearly has he lov’d,
And we must love him too,
And trust in his redeeming blood,
And try his works to do.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: trust, city, heaven, believe, green, work

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (There Is A Green Hill by Cecil Frances Alexander )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 2 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. essay # i'll never know, gordon nosworthy
  2. I See The Sun, Pijush Biswas
  3. Variety of doors!, Dr.V.K. Kanniappan
  4. What is superior?, gajanan mishra
  5. Mind, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
  6. WE ARE TEMPORARILY HERE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  7. Waxing Grandiloquent, Margaret Alice Second
  8. When The Evening Light Comes, Pijush Biswas
  9. Hindi haiku (56-60), S.D. TIWARI
  10. Retirement (or) Till Your Last, Natarajan Ramaseshan

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]