Friday, 27 May 2011


My mother read of Jesus
In our black Bible book;
I heard of His compassions,
And sympathetic look.

My father read of Jesus
Who came to clear men's sin
Once in the course of ages
To make us clear within.

The preachers told of Jesus,
Descended from above,
Who came to deal with sorrows
In His descending love.

His people spoke of Jesus
Upon the Father's throne;
They praised and sang and worshipped
Because they were His own.

At length I came to know Him -
Compassion was for me;
For me He came from glory,
For me endured the tree.

For me He has ascended
To sit at God's right hand;
For me He sent the Spirit
That I might understand.

For me he has provided
A company of saints;
For me His ear is open -
He listens to my plaints.

The stories about Jesus
Are wonderful and true,
But do you know His sorrows
Were undergone for you?


  1. A testimony in verse -Amrita

  2. I like the rhythm of this poem and the repetition of "For me". It reads very well aloud. Jesus did it all for me!


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