Not One Forgotten

by E. E. Hewitt

There's a word of tender beauty
In the sayings of our Lord,
How it stirs the heart to music,
Waking gratitude's sweet chord;
For it tells me that "Our Father,"
From his throne of royal might,
Bends to note a falling sparrow,
For 'tis precious in his sight.

Though I'm least of all his children,
So unworthy of his love,
Yet for me there's kind remembrance
In the Fathers heart above;
He will ever save and keep me;
He will guide me on the way,
For my Saviour gently whispers,
"Are ye not much more than they?"

Oh, the wounded hands of Jesus
All the springs of life control,
Is there any ill can harm me
While his blood is on my soul?
Let me, like the little sparrow,
Trust him where I cannot see,
In the sunshine and the shadow,
Singing he will care for me.

Chorus

In my father's blessed keeping
I am happy, safe, and free;
While his eye is on the sparrow
I will not forgotten be.