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.
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 !
2 lie found me bruised and dying,
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 !
3 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.
4 Fro 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.
5 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.