Chief of sin­ners though I be,
Jesus shed His blood for me;
Died that I might live on high,
Died that I might ne­ver die;
As the branch is to the vine,
I am His, and He is mine.

O the height of Je­sus’ love!
Higher than the Hea­ven above;
Deeper than the deep­est sea,
Lasting as eter­ni­ty;
Love that found me—won­drous thought!
Found me when I sought Him not!

Jesus on­ly can im­part
Balm to heal the smit­ten heart;
Peace that flows from sin for­giv­en,
Joy that lifts the soul to Hea­ven;
Faith and hope to walk with God
In the way that En­och trod.

Chief of sin­ners though I be,
Christ is all in all to me;
All my wants to Him are known,
All my sor­rows are His own;
Safe with Him from earth­ly strife,
He sus­tains the hid­den life.

O my Sav­ior, help af­ford
By Thy Spir­it and Thy Word!
When my way­ward heart would stray,
Keep me in the nar­row way;
Grace in time of need sup­ply
While I live and when I die.