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In tenderness He sought me, |
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Weary and sick with sin; |
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And on His shoulders brought me |
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Back to His fold again. |
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While angels in His presence sang |
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Until the courts of Heaven rang. |
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Refrain |
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Oh, the love that sought me! |
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Oh, the blood that bought
me! |
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Oh, the grace that brought
me to the fold, |
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Wondrous grace that brought
me to the fold. |
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He washed the bleeding sin wounds, |
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And poured in oil and wine; |
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He whispered to assure me, |
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“I’ve found thee, thou art Mine”; |
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I never heard a sweeter voice; |
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It made my aching heart rejoice! |
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Refrain |
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He pointed to the nail prints, |
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For me His blood was shed, |
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A mocking crown so thorny |
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Was placed upon His head; |
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I wondered what He saw in me, |
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To suffer such deep agony. |
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Refrain |
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I’m sitting in His presence, |
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The sunshine of His face, |
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While with adoring wonder |
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His blessings I retrace. |
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It seems as if eternal days |
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Are far too short to sound His praise. |
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Refrain |
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So while the hours are passing, |
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All now is perfect rest, |
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I’m waiting for the morning, |
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The brightest and the best, |
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When He will call us to His side, |
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To be with Him, His spotless bride. |
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Refrain |