HIM THAT COMETH TO ME.
127
The sense of pardon filling all the soul
Washed clean at last;
The grace that follows with its sweet control
The shame o'erpast!
Washed clean at last;
The grace that follows with its sweet control
The shame o'erpast!
To win thee sorrowing to His glad embrace
How hath He striven!
Oh, hear His Voice—couldst thou but see Face!—
Thou art forgiven!
How hath He striven!
Oh, hear His Voice—couldst thou but see Face!—
Thou art forgiven!