Do you think the Lord forgets you,
Because you must fight and pray,
And reap the bitter harvest
You’ve been sowing from day to day?
That tho’ you may toil and suffer,
He never will heed your moan?
That Jesus the Lord forgets you?
He never forgets His own.

Do you think because your heart aches
With anguish and cruel pain,
And life’s bright, golden sunshine
Is shadowed by storm and rain?
Of music subdued or silenced
You hear but the undertone?
That Jesus the Lord forgets you?
He never forgets His own.

Do you think because the sorrow
Which all human hearts must know,
Has come to claim your darling,
The loved one you cherished so—
The joy of your life has vanished,
Which fondly you called your own—
That Jesus the Lord forgets you?
He never forgets His own.

Do you think because your loved ones
Lie cold in the grave, and still—
You cannot hear their voices
Or work out their careless will—
The struggle you made together,
Must now all be fought alone,
That Jesus the Lord forgets you?
He never forgets His own.

We are all His blood-bought children;
He holds every soul as dear
As you do the wayward baby
Who creeps to your heart so near;
And if we would only listen,
We’d hear Him in tenderest tone,
Fear not, My belovèd children,
I never forget My own.