'Tis a sad but wondrous story,
How my Lord, the Lord of glory,
Left the presence of His Father
In the realms of light above;
Came to earth, so dark and dreary,
Found the sick, the sad, the weary,
Brought them back to God, their Father,
On the bosom of His love.
While He sought them, they denied Him,
Scourged, insulted, crucified Him
On the brow of Calvary's mountain,
On that dark and dreadful day.
He had only prayers to render
From that heart by love made tender
For the cruel throng that mocked Him
While His life-blood ebbed away.
We are cleansed in that pure fountain
Which flowed down on Calvary's mountain
From the wounds our blest Redeemer
Suffered there for you and me.
From that Saviour naught can sever;
We are saved, and saved forever,
Who obey and follow daily
Where He leads so tenderly.
Day by day the signs are clearer
That the time is drawing nearer
When our blessed Lord and Master
Will return to earth again.
Then if faithful, we shall meet Him,
And with happy hearts shall greet Him
Who has borne so much of sorrow
For the love He bore to men.
In that blessed home supernal,
Joy shall be, and life eternal,
In the presence of our Saviour,
In this earth from sin made free.
Every heartache will be banished.
Every sorrow will have vanished.
Only joy and peace and blessing
There are waiting you and me.
