There is a cry throughout the ages sounding,
A pleading mightier than our lips can know;
Who is this Suppliant our lives surrounding?
Whose are the tears that through this pleading flow?
There is a Voice now in the silence speaking,
A knock that comes when no one else can hear;
Who is the One that, through the darkness seeking,
Again—again—and still again draws near?
What is the power that takes the feeble preaching,
And bears its message with resistless might?
Oh, stop and listen; it is God beseeching—
God calling us from darkness into light.
There is a love that from heaven’s height of blessing
Poured out itself upon the bitter cross,
And millions since, with joy that love confessing,
Have counted for it all earth’s gains but loss.
What is the power throughout the ages reaching,
Still drawing hearts to Jesus everywhere?
Oh, wonder not, for it is God beseeching—
God’s love untold still waiting for us there.