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| In tenderness He sought me, 
 
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|  | 1. | 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 | 
|  |  | flock, | 
|  |  | Wondrous grace that brought me to | 
|  |  | the flock! | 
|  | 2. | 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. | 
|  | 3. | 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 a deep agony. | 
|  | 4. | 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. | 
|  | 5. | 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. |