Three little sunbeams, gliding all I see;
Three little chords, each full of melody;
Three little leaves, balm for my agony.
He loved me, the Father’s only Son;
He gave Himself, the precious, spotless One;
He shed His blood, and thus the work was done.
He loved—not merely pitied. Here I rest.
Sorrow may come—I to His heart am pressed.
What should I fear while sheltered in His breast?
Wonder of wonders, Jesus loved me;
A wretch—lost—ruined—sunk in misery.
He sought me, found me, raised me, set me free
My soul, the order of the words approve:
Christ first, me last, nothing between but love.
Lord, keep me always down, Thyself above.
Trusting to Thee, not struggling restlessly,
So shall I gain the victory—
“I—yet not I” —but Christ— “Who loved me.”