Classic Poem

Jesus, thou needest me,
Even me, thou Light divine;
O Son of God, thou needest me,
Thou needest sins like mine.

Thy fulness needs my want,
Thy wealth my poverty;
Thy healing skill my sickness needs,
Thy joy my misery.

Thy strength my weakness needs,
Thy grace my worthlessness;
Thy greatness needs a worm like me
To cherish and to bless.

Thy life needs death like mine,
To shew its quickening power;
Infinity the finite needs,
Th' eternal needs the hour.

Earth, with its vales and hills,
Needeth the daily sun;
This daily sun of ours, — it needs
An earth to shine upon.

This evil, froward soul
Needeth a love like thine;
A love like thine, O loving Christ,
Needeth a soul like mine.

Thy fulness, Son of God,
Thus needy maketh thee;
Thy glory, O thou glorious One,
Seeketh its rest in me.

It was thy need of me
That brought thee from above;
It is my need of thee, O Lord,
That draws me to thy love.