I WAS a child forsaken,
An outcast poor and mean,
By every woe o’ertaken,
Uncomely and unclean;
With only rags to clothe me,
Too weak for help to cry,
None loved, but all did loathe me,
And I was left to die.
But Jesus, passing, pitied,
To me in love He came,
He cleansed, He robed, He fed me,
He called me by His name,
He told me of His pleasure
To place me on His throne,
Himself, His home, His treasure,
He said were all mine own.
Since He in grace did choose me
And save me through His cross,
If ever He could lose me
He most would feel the loss.
The arms He clasps about me
Can never be undone,
He cannot be without me,
For He and I are one.