Jean Ingelow, 1878
I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
He moved my soul to seek him, seeking me.
It was not I that found, O Savior true,
No, I was found of thee.
Thou didst reach forth thy hand and mine enfold,
I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea.
‘Twas not so much that I on thee took hold
As thou, dear Lord, on me.
I find, I walk, I love, but, oh, the whole
Of love is but my answer, Lord, to thee!
For thou wert long beforehand with my soul,
Always thou lovedst me.