|Lord, Thy love has sought and found us
Wandering in this desert wide,
Thou hast thrown Thine arms around us,
For us suffered, bled and died.
Sing my soul! He loved thee,
Hark! what sounds of bitter weeping,
From yon lonesome garden sweep,
’Tis the Lord His vigil keeping,
Whilst His followers sink in sleep.
Ah, my soul, He loved thee,
He is speaking to His Father,
Tasting deep that bitter cup,
Yet He takes it, willing rather
For our sakes to drink it up.
Oh what love! He loved me!
Then that closing scene of anguish;
All God’s waves and billows roll
Over Him, there left to languish
On the cross, to save my soul.
Matchless love! How vast, how free,
|Hark again! His cries are waking
Echoes on dark Calvary’s hill;
God, my God, art Thou forsaking
Him who always did Thy will?
Ah! my soul, it was for thee,
Lord, we joy, Thy toils are ended,
Glad Thy suffering time is o’er,
To Thy Father’s throne ascended,
There Thou lives to die no more.
Yes, my soul! He lives for thee,
Lord, we worship and adore Thee
For Thy rich, Thy matchless grace,
Perfect soon in joy before Thee,
We shall see Thee face to face.
Yet e’en now our song shall be,
By J. J. Hopkins (1786-1862)
“The hour is coming, and now is,
when the true worshipers
shall worship the Father
in spirit and in truth;
for the Father is seeking such
to worship Him.”
John 4:23 NKJV
With permission to publish by: Sam Hadley, Grace & Truth, 210 Chestnut St., Danville, IL., USA. Website: www.gtpress.org