He Loves Me Still

May I draw nigh

with emp­ty hands

When grain was near my arms to fill?

And are they true

those words of love

He loves thee still! He loves thee still!

I

who have loi­tered by the way

And tri­fled by each pet­ty rill

Nor hast­ened t’ward the Sea of Life

Can it be true

He loves me still?

Why did I scorn the nar­row path

And mur­mur at each rug­ged hill?

O list

my heart

to those sweet words

He loves thee still! He loves thee still!

What can I do? The day is gone!

With trem­bling heart and brok­en will

I turn to Him—for O ’tis true

He waits for me—He loves me still!