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Poems (Kimball)/"I will never leave Thee, nor forsake Thee"

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Poems
by Harriet McEwen Kimball
"I will never leave Thee, nor forsake Thee"
4472091Poems — "I will never leave Thee, nor forsake Thee"Harriet McEwen Kimball
"I WILL NEVER LEAVE THEE, OR FORSAKE THEE."
HOW patient art Thou, dearest Lord, And how perverse am I!Still day by day some other way To win me Thou dost try.
Now under skies serenely bright Thou leadest me along, No cloud of ill my hopes to chill Or turn to sighs my song.
And now Thou sufferest cruel storms, Misfortune's bitter blast, To lay me low that I may know Thy shelter o'er me cast.
To-day companionships most sweet To every hour give wings, And morn and eve such visions weave As shadow Heavenly things.
The visions fade; bereft, cast down, As in some desert waste Thou leavest me that unto Thee My lonely heart may haste.
The awful consciousness of sin Thou makest me to feel, The sickness dread of heart and head That only Thou canst heal.
Thou dost oppress me till I fall Repentant at Thy feet, That on Thy breast I may find rest As undeserved as sweet.
Again, to meditation's shade Thou lurest me aside, And truths wouldst teach beyond the reach Of any human guide,—
Soft whispers of the Spirit's lore Whose wisdom saints attain; But soon I say, "Some other day!" And turn to what seems plain.
How faithful art Thou, dearest Lord, But oh, how faithless I, That o'er and o'er and more and more Thy faithfulness I try!
Oh, were Thy sweet commandments writ In this inconstant heart, It could not be that I from Thee Should ever walk apart!
That I should leave the only Friend Who will not me forsake, But still doth plead, and plead, and plead, As one whose heart must break!
Strive with me still, O Love Supreme; Supremest Patience, strive!Thou hast restored the lost, dear Lord, Hast made the dead alive;
And nothing is impossible To Thy Almightiness Whose glory found its boundless bound In such divine redress.
Thou sure must win me in the end To Thy eternal claim, Who didst create, regenerate, And call me by Thy Name.
The day must come, the blessed day, When I updrawn shall be, And on the Cross count all things loss, And dying live to Thee!