In Tenderness He Sought Me

In tenderness, he sought me, weary and sick with sin,
And, on his shoulders, brought me into his flock 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!
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!
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!
Wondrous grace that brought me to the fold!
I’m sitting in his presence, the sunshine of his face,
While with adoring wonder, his blessings I retrace.
It seems as if eternal days are far too short to sound his praise.
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!
Wondrous grace that brought me to the fold!