All lost and gone astray, Lord.
But on Thy Paschal Lamb
Thou'st laid my heavy burden,
Thus I am what I am.

I knew not how He loved me,
Nor yet my Father's Name,
Who gave His Son, His loved One.
To bear my sin and shame.

Like every son of Adam,
"No difference," saith God's Word;
For none have reached His standard,
"None seeketh after God."

The shepherd sought the lost one,
And on His shoulder laid
The foolish sheep, that knew not
That He its ransom paid.

Then glorify the Saviour,
Oh, lift Him up today,
And show all wilful wanderers,
The Life, the Truth, the Way.

No word of commendation
For all I am, and have,
I owe it to my Saviour
And His exceeding love.

I want His commendation,
For me there's nothing higher,
If I but hear His "Well done,"
What more could I desire?

His voice-I'm sure I'll know it,
Triumphant, quickening word!-
Twill be the sweetest music,
My ears have ever heard.
Come quickly, blessed Lord!

Helen McDowell