In evil long I took delight, Unawed by shame or fear, Till a new object struck my sight, And stopped my wild career.
I saw One hanging on a tree, In agony and blood, Who fixed His languid eyes on me, As near His cross I stood.
Sure, never to my latest breath, Can I forget that look; It seemed to charge me with His death, Though not a word He spoke.
My conscience felt and owned the guilt, And plunged me in despair, I saw my sins His blood had spilt, And helped to nail Him there.
A second look He gave, which said, “I freely all forgive; This blood is for thy ransom paid; I die that thou mayst live.”
Thus, while His death my sin displays In all its blackest hue, Such is the mystery of grace, It seals my pardon too.
- John Newton
_________________ SI Moderator - Brandy Gordon
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