James Mclain Poet Lyric

Matthew 25 Verses 39 and 40

We knew Thee not—O Quiet King—
When Prison’s Gate was near—
Nor guessed Thy Step in Ragged Cloth
Nor heard Thy Voice—so clear—

We passed The Sick with hurried Breath—
The Hungry with bowed Head—
Yet Heaven watched the smallest Crust
By trembling Fingers—fed—

And when the Last Accounting came—
Thy mild, astonished Word—
Declared the Cup we gave the Least
Was lifted—to the Lord—

For Mercy—wears a Common Face—
And walks the Dusty Street—
The Soul that stoops to bind a wound—
Has knelt—at Jesus’ Feet—

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Paige Hind March 12, 2026 at 8:34 PM This really moves my heart. A beautiful write, dear James