My Lord has called me "Daughter;"
'Tis wondrous grace, I know,
That He who dwells in Heaven
Takes note of me below.
He asked me first to "Hearken"—
To just incline mine ear;
He had a precious secret
He wanted me to hear.
He told me to "Consider"—
His love to ponder o'er,
And all His grace and goodness—
Which makes me love Him more.
He asked me then to "Worship"—
My Savior, Lord—the King—
And said He was desirous
That homage I should bring.
To worship Thee? "But Lord,
I'm vile as vile can be."
He answered me, "My daughter,
I see no spot in thee."
"Thou'rt trusting in the Savior
Whose blood was shed for thee;
That finished work on Calv'ry
Forever sets thee free."
"And now I see thee standing
In Christ the Lamb once slain;
Partaker of His righteousness
And cleansed from every stain."
"Yes, Lord, I see it clearly,
'Tis through Thy blood alone
I can approach and worship
For all that Thou hast done.
Thy boundless love constrains me;
"Rememb'ring Thee," 'tis meet
To bring my feeble praises,
And worship at Thy feet."
And so my heart is peaceful
I'm sure such matchless love
Will bear me safely onward
And Home to Him above.