In tenderness He sought me, |
Weary and sick with sin; |
And on His shoulders brought me |
Back to His fold again. |
While angels in His presence sang |
Until the courts of Heaven rang. |
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Refrain |
|
Oh, the love that sought me! |
Oh, the blood that bought
me! |
Oh, the grace that brought
me to the fold, |
Wondrous grace that brought
me to the fold. |
|
He washed the bleeding sin wounds, |
And poured in oil and wine; |
He whispered to assure me, |
“I’ve found thee, thou art Mine”; |
I never heard a sweeter voice; |
It made my aching heart rejoice! |
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Refrain |
|
He pointed to the nail prints, |
For me His blood was shed, |
A mocking crown so thorny |
Was placed upon His head; |
I wondered what He saw in me, |
To suffer such deep agony. |
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Refrain |
|
I’m sitting in His presence, |
The sunshine of His face, |
While with adoring wonder |
His blessings I retrace. |
It seems as if eternal days |
Are far too short to sound His praise. |
|
Refrain |
|
So while the hours are passing, |
All now is perfect rest, |
I’m waiting for the morning, |
The brightest and the best, |
When He will call us to His side, |
To be with Him, His spotless bride. |
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Refrain |