John Bunyan

(28 November 1628 – 31 August 1688 / Elstow, Bedfordshire, England.)

John Bunyan Poems

1. Of The Cuckoo 1/3/2003
2. Upon The Hour Glass 1/1/2004
3. Upon The Pismire 1/1/2004
4. Upon The Horse And His Rider 1/1/2004
5. Upon Over-Much Niceness 1/1/2004
6. Upon The Flint In The Water 1/1/2004
7. Upon The Sacraments 1/1/2004
8. Upon The Sun's Reflection Upon The Clouds In A Fair Morning 1/1/2004
9. Upon The Barren Fig-Tree In God's Vineyard 1/1/2004
10. Upon The Whipping Of The Top 1/1/2004
11. Upon The Vine Tree 1/1/2004
12. Upon The Lark And The Fowler 1/1/2004
13. Upon The Sight Of A Pound Of Candles Falling To The Ground 1/1/2004
14. Upon The Disobedient Child 1/1/2004
15. Upon The Lord's Prayer 1/1/2004
16. Upon Fire 1/1/2004
17. Upon The Skilfull Player Of An Instrument 1/1/2004
18. Of The Rose Bush 1/1/2004
19. To The Reader 1/1/2004
20. The Necessity Of A New Heart 1/1/2004
21. The Fowls Flying In The Air 1/1/2004
22. Of Uprightness And Sincerity 1/1/2004
23. On Promising Fruitfulness Of A Tree 1/1/2004
24. On The Cackling Of A Hen 1/1/2004
25. Upon A Lowering Of Morning 1/1/2004
26. Of The Spouse Of Christ 4/20/2010
27. Upon The Swallow 1/1/2004
28. Upon A Looking Glass 1/1/2004
29. Upon The Thief 1/1/2004
30. Of The Flie At The Candle 1/1/2004
31. Upon The Bee 1/1/2004
32. From Mount Ebal 1/1/2004
33. Of Love To God 1/1/2004
34. Upon A Sheet Of White Paper 1/1/2004
35. Upon Thebegger 1/1/2004
36. Of The Going Down Of The Sun 1/1/2004
37. Of The Mole In The Ground 1/1/2004
38. Upon The Frog 1/1/2004
39. Of Death 1/1/2004
40. On The Rising Of The Sun 1/1/2004
Best Poem of John Bunyan

The Shepherd Boy Sings In The Valley Of Humiliation

HE that is down needs fear no fall,
   He that is low, no pride;
He that is humble ever shall
   Have God to be his guide.

I am content with what I have,
   Little be it or much:
And, Lord, contentment still I crave,
   Because Thou savest such.

Fullness to such a burden is
   That go on pilgrimage:
Here little, and hereafter bliss,
   Is best from age to age.

Read the full of The Shepherd Boy Sings In The Valley Of Humiliation

Upon The Vine Tree

What is the vine, more than another tree?
Nay most, than it, more tall, more comely be.
What workman thence will take a beam or pin,
To make ought which may be delighted in?
Its excellency in its fruit doth lie:
A fruitless vine, it is not worth a fly.


[Report Error]