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My Saviour hanging on the tree,
In agonies and blood,
Methought once turn'd his eyes on me,
As near his cross I stood.
Sure, never till my latest breath
Can I forget that look;
It seem'd to charge me with his death,
Though not a word he spoke.
My conscience felt and own'd the guilt,
And plung'd me in despair;
1 saw my sins his blood had spilt,
And help'd to nail him there.
Alas! I knew not what I did;
But now my tears are vain;
Where shall my trembling soul be hid?
For I the Lord have slain.
A second look he gave, which said,
"I freely all forgive:
This blood is for thy ransom paid,
I die, that thou may'st live."
Thus, while his death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
(Such is the mystery of grace,)
It seals my pardon too.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1826 | # 64 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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FINGAL
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1885
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 539 | D | | # 456 | Eb | | # 159 | Eb | | # 4 | Eb |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
