When far astray in sin, one day
The lov­ing Sav­ior passed my way;
As help­less, sick, and sore I lay
Deep in the pit and mi­ry clay.

He stooped and touched me in my shame;
I felt His touch, I breathed His name;
A thrill di­vine went through my soul—
I felt that touch had made me whole.

For you I drank the bit­ter cup,
Thus Je­sus said, and raised me up;
He raised me up, O praise the Lamb,
From what I was to what I am!

I know the depths from whence I came;
Thou know­est, too, how weak my frame;
Keep Thou my hand with­in Thine own,
For, O, I dare not walk alone!

Close by the side of such a friend,
Whose love could such a depth des­cend,
I shall not wan­der from the fold,
For pow­er to save is grace to hold.