In Evil Long I Took Delight

In ev­il long I took de­light

Unawed by shame or fear

Till a new ob­ject struck my sight

And stopped my wild ca­reer.

I saw One hang­ing on a tree

In ago­ny and blood

Who fixed His lang­uid eyes on me

As near His cross I stood.

Sure

nev­er to my lat­est breath

Can I for­get that look;

It seemed to charge me with His death

Though not a word He spoke.

My con­science felt and owned the guilt

And plunged me in des­pair

I saw my sins His blood had spilt

And helped to nail Him there.

Alas! I knew not what I did

But now my tears are vain;

Where shall my trem­bling soul be hid?

For I the Lord have slain.

A se­cond look He gave

which said

I free­ly all for­give;

This blood is for thy ran­som paid;

I die

that thou may’st live.

Thus

while His death my sin dis­plays

In all its black­est hue

Such is the mys­te­ry of grace

It seals my par­don

too.

With pleas­ing grief and mourn­ful joy

My spir­it now is filled;

That I should such a life de­stroy

Yet live by Him I killed.