In tenderness He sought me,
Weary and sick with sin;
And on His shoulders brought me
Back to His fold again.
While angels in His presence sang
Until the courts of heaven rang.

Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that brought me to the fold,
Wondrous grace that brought me to the fold.

He washed the bleeding sin wounds,
And poured in oil and wine;
He whispered to assure me,
"I've found Thee, Thou art Mine";
I never heard a sweeter voice;
It made my aching heart rejoice!

Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that brought me to the fold,
Wondrous grace that brought me to the fold.

He pointed to the nail prints,
For me His blood was shed,
A mocking crown so thorny
Was placed upon His head;
I wondered what He saw in me,
To suffer such deep agony.

Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that brought me to the fold,
Wondrous grace that brought me to the fold.

So while the hours are passing,
All now is perfect rest,
I'm waiting for the morning,
The brightest and the best,
When He will call us to His side,
To be with Him, His spotless bride.

Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that brought me to the fold,
Wondrous grace that brought me to the fold.

(W. Spencer Walton)

http://www.hymnal.net/hymn.php?t=h&n=1068