“Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it."
To Calv'ry, Lord, in spirit now
Our weary souls repair,
To dwell upon thy dying love,
And taste its sweetness there.
Sweet resting-place of every heart
That feels the plague of sin,
Yet knows that deep mysterious joy,
The peace of God within.
There, through thine hour of deepest woe,
Thy suffering spirit pass'd;
Grace there its wondrous victory gain'd,
And love endured its last.
Dear suffering Lamb! thy bleeding wounds,
With cords of love divine,
Have drawn our willing hearts to thee,
And link'd our life with thine.
Thy sympathies and hopes are ours;
Dear Lord! we wait to see
Creation, all-below, above,
Redeemed and blest by thee.
Our longing eyes would fain behold
That bright and blessed brow,
Once wrung with bitterest anguish, wear
Its crown of glory now.
Why linger then? Come, Savior, come,
Responsive to our call;
Come, claim thine ancient power, and reign,
The Heir and Lord of all.