In tenderness He sought me, weary and sick with sin,
And on His shoulders brought me back to Himself again,
While tidings of the lost one found
Made heaven’s courts with praise resound.
Chorus:
Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that brought me to Himself,
Wondrous grace that brought me to Himself.
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
He pointed to the nail prints; for me His blood was shed,
A mocking crown so thorny was placed upon His head;
I wonder what He saw in me to suffer such deep agony.
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 me to His side, the portion of His spotless bride.