Poems (Shipton)/He Loveth Me

by Anna Shipton

HE LOVETH ME.

"Who loved me, and gave Himself for me."—Gal. ii. 20.

Whene'er my faithless footsteps stray,
I miss my Lord upon the way,
And then—how hard it is to say,
            "He loveth me."

Wild sounds the tempest in my ear,
Nor sun, nor stars, for days appear,
And yet my Jesus still is near,
            He loveth me.

All other love can soon forget;
Estranged, where once the firmest set.
Wandering and weak I am, and yet
            He loveth me.

How can I doubt Him? for my name
Is graven on His breast! He came
To bear for me my sin and shame!
            He loveth me.

Upon the Cross I see Him bleed,
Mocked with a crown and broken reed!
Made sin for me! soul, indeed
            He loveth me.

When, drooping, on my way I go,
That sweet assurance can bestow
Peace in the darkest hour: I know
            He loveth me.

It smoothes for me the roughest road,
It bears me o'er the rising flood;
All things together work for good.
            He loveth me.

It is the shadow from the heat,
It is the star to guide my feet,
My pillow, and my night-song sweet,
            "He loveth me."

When clouds upon my spirit fall,
And sins affright, and fears appal,
Up, sinking heart, and tell Him all!
            He loveth me.

He loveth me! That thought hath flung
A joy and gladness o'er my song;
Its burden echoes all day long,
            "He loveth me."

He loveth me! Take courage, ye
Who sigh for Him you cannot see;
Sure, none should ever hopeless be.
            He loveth me.